Twisted
by K-chu
Summary: Sasuke realizes he's twisted, wanting something he can't have. Maybe this is all part of his punishment. He never felt this way until he was forced to take care of her. SasuSaku
1. Denial

**Rating: **M for sexual content

**Genre:** Romance/Angst

**Summary: **Sasuke realizes he's twisted.

**Author's Notes: **After a few people recommended it, I decided to upload this as an individual fic; it started as a oneshot in my collection 'A Bit of a Mix Up' but has morphed into a longer piece. I am forever thankful for my reviewers, it gives me the motivation to continue writing! I'm working on the fourth chapter to this right now (took a break to post this!) and hope to finish it by tonight?! Hopefully... somehow it always seems to take me longer than I plan to write.

I left the other chapters still posted in my oneshot anthology because I don't really want to lose the reviews if I delete it e_e But new chapter(s?) will be uploaded here only.

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**Twisted**

The seconds ticked by on the large grandfather clock located in some dark hallway of the Uchiha compound. Each _tick _reverberating throughout the empty house, seemingly bouncing off the walls and growing louder.

A pale, dark haired male sat in a rather uncomfortable wooden chair, located in a large room of which the only accessory was a bed and a bedside table with a vase of shriveling daffodils. The constant _ticking_ of the incessant clock echoed loudly in his ears. On more than one occasion, he mused that the infernal _ticking _was a countdown to his ever-waning sanity.

His dull eyes remained focused on the prone body lying on the bed before him. Soft, shoulder length pink hair sprawled out on the pillow the girl's head rested on. She wore a dark red, loosely fitted red kimono with pastel outlines of the flower she received her namesake. Her slender arms lay outstretched on either side of her small frame, the only part of her body aside from her neck and head that was above the bed sheets. Her facial features were soft and feminine, forever holding a sense of purity and innocence that most people lose when they enter adulthood. If her eyes were open, they'd reveal a spectacular pair of vibrant green eyes that shine with a mixture warmth and a fiery intensity for life.

But alas, those eyes remained shut. Hiding their beauty from the world in an eternal sleep.

As the male watched over her, he remained deep in contemplation. He longed to see those green eyes filled with life once more. To hear her voice, like music, ring through his ears. He wants so badly for his sleeping beauty to wake up, but he is no prince, and she is no princess. So, he sits and waits by her side, day after day, listening to the seconds tick by. Listening as he comes one second closer to the brink.

He shifts in his chair, trying to find a position that bodes well with his aching back, the ache a clear indication of hours spent unmoving. Soon, he gives up and accepts the pain, because the presence of physical pain is a useful distraction to the constant ache in his heart. Physical pain is good, he thinks, because it's part of his punishment.

Punishment for harming something so pure and innocent as the creature before him.

.

.

.

It happened in a flash. A tremendous fight between best friends and companions; torn apart by power and revenge. Brother against brother. The battle lasts for hours, but as it draws to a close, one stands over the other. Without hesitation, his arm lights up with electricity and the sound of a thousand birds chirps menacingly in the air. He drives down, prepared to take a life but time appears to slow down and in that moment he remembers growing up with this loud-mouthed blonde, going on missions together, and learning all the basics about being a ninja with him.

Suddenly, he wants to stop, but gravity is bearing down on him and the momentum of his fist is carrying him forward, directly in the path of that annoying orange-wearing boy. He doesn't want to kill a brother. Not again! But he's helpless to stop it. He shuts his eyes, preparing for impact.

The first thing he feels is the warmth that embraces his hand and forearm. The sound of his hand tearing through flesh and bone soon follow. The unmistakable snapping of bone, the squelch of skin and blood, and the agonizing gasp of pain before his hand springs through the other side of the body. His eyes remain locked shut for what feels like eternity, but for what can only be a few seconds. Slowly he opens them, not wanting to see the carnage before him but powerless to resist. He remains unmoving, rooted in place, as she stumbles against his chest. The only thing he can see is pink hair and blood. He wants to pull back, yank his arm out and run away but she rests a hand on his shoulder and her head plants firmly against his chest. Her labored breathing turns into shallow pants. Then, her body starts to lose all functioning and her hand slips from his shoulder to fall limp at her side. She starts to fall forward but his free hand grabs her to keep her upright; his other hand is still impaling her chest.

Somehow, even in such a state, the pink haired female manages to sputter out his name through all the blood she's coughing up, and against every fiber of his body's wishes, he looks down at her and meets those green eyes for one last time before she closes them forever. Faintly, she smiles at him with the last of her energy before falling completely limp in his arms.

This is the cost of his revenge and betrayal.

.

.

.

It was a miracle, really, that Tsunade was able to stabilize her condition. In took every trick the Hokage had and then some, but she persevered for her own reasons. She never wants to witness another precious person of hers to pass away. Unfortunately, her efforts fall short. Despite normalizing the body and brain functioning, her beloved student remains trapped in an inexplicable coma.

Days later, Sasuke is recalled from his prison cell to the Hokage's office. Surrounded by the company of his sole remaining teammate, sensei and the village elders, he waits to hear his punishment in silence, numb and barely aware of the world around him.

_Death_, he hopes. It's the only thing that will release him from this eternal hell he's living. It's the maximum sentence and the only thing worthy for someone who betrays their village, turns on a brother and inflicts a serious, long-term injury on a teammate.

Instead, he receives a punishment much worse.

"_Uchiha Sasuke. You are to be the primary caretaker of Haruno Sakura. From this day forth you will house her and ensure that every necessity is taken to preserve her health and wellbeing. Should you fail to live up to this responsibility, you will be declared an enemy of Konoha and all your rights and property will be revoked." _

Silence stretches through the room as he contemplates the words spoken. He opens his mouth, ready to refuse and accept whatever punishment comes with being an enemy of Konoha, but the blonde woman speaks once more.

Her voice is softer than just a minute ago, _"Remember Uchiha, Sakura gave up everything in order to bring you back. For the sake of her last wishes, I trust you will make the right decision._"

He is helpless to object.

.

.

.

When she first arrives in his house, he takes every effort to be free of her company and away from the constant reminder of his horrible actions. He trains outside all day, until he's haggard and barely left with any breath. He makes sure to sleep in a room on the opposite side of the house. He uses every excuse possible to avoid her. The only time he comes into contact with her is when he has to change the intravenous fluid, which provides her with the necessary nutrition needed for survival. When the nurses come to check on her twice a week, he stands at the doorway to the room, never closer.

He doesn't want to see her, he doesn't want to look at her, he doesn't want to be reminded of what he did to her.

This continues for months, until one day, for some inexplicable reason, he finds himself standing at her bedside and looking over her lithe body. She's a shadow of her former self. A pale reflection; nothing more than the outer shell. Her hair is course and overgrown, her skin is dry and lips cracking from lack of moister. The sight makes the colour drain from his face.

Quickly, he departs from the room and uses every skill he possesses to scratch the image from his mind, promising to himself that he'll never get so close to her again.

.

.

.

A week passes and, despite his best efforts, he still he cannot erase the image from his thoughts.

He curses, kicks and punches as he trains late into the evening. Hating himself for being so weak. If he was stronger, like Naruto or Kakashi, he'd be able to sit by her side, smile at her, talk to her, scream at her, anything! But he's a coward who should be dead. He's denied even that.

Every waking moment the image of her frail body hovers in his consciousness, drawing him in. He starts walking past the hallway that leads to her room daily, for no reason. This continues for days. Then, he finds himself at the door to her room. He stands there, wanting to go in but desperately wanting to flee at the same time. He stands for several minutes at a time before finally pulling himself away.

It becomes a ritual. Every day he returns to her door through some compulsion to be near her. Each day he stands there longer than the previous, and the effort it takes to pull his feet away grows, as if there's some kind of magnetic force field that intensifies its pull with every visit he makes.

.

.

.

In some twisted way, he grows accustomed to the nightmares he has each night of her broken form in his arms. Of that ghostly smile that graced her lips the moment she gave into unconsciousness. It's the only time he gets to see those vibrant green eyes of hers looking up at him.

He wakes with a start, labored breathing filling the dark room. The sheets are twisted around his body, damp from the cold sweat covering his body. He wipes the sweat from his forehead and leaves his face buried in his hands as he tries to catch his breath.

Another vivid dream of _that _day. He grits his teeth, annoyed by his anguish.

His mind flashes to the image of her helpless body lying in the bed, so close yet so far away. Then, suddenly, the thought grips his mind. _Is she alright?! Had she finally slipped into the beyond, and was lying dead in her bed? _

The irrational fear creeps into every corner of his body. That familiar, cold numbness sneaks its way into his toes and ascends through his blood, up to his knees, thighs, stomach, until it grips his heart in a frosty chill. It's one of those mind-consuming fears that infects every cell and nerve in the body, until the chest tingles and it's impossible to think of the most basic tasks, like how to breathe. One of those fears where thinking of death is actually a comfort, because then all of this will mean nothing and that pathetic excuse of a life you lived finally ceases to exist.

He throws the sheets off and jumps out of bed, moving quicker with each step until he finds himself in an all out run to her room. Without a moment's hesitation he throws the door open with such force that it's unhinged from the wall and tumbles loudly to the floor, but the sound is forgotten and ignored. He rushes to her side and leans down, his ear hovering over her nose and lips. He stands unmoving anxiously waiting. Waiting. Until at last, he feels the soft exhale of air brush against him and can finally let out a shaky breath.

The relief hits him like a wave and he finds his body giving out beneath him. His head falls against her chest, buried in the sheets that divide them, his arms sprawl out over her sleeping form and legs bent to kneel against the side of the bed for support.

_She's still alive._

His fingers draw inward as he pulls himself closer, feeling the rise and fall of her chest, listening to that steady heart beat, breathing in her scent as if it's essential to his survival. The sweet aroma wafts in through his nose, making his chest and brain feel light and tingly. He stays like that, immobile for minutes, maybe hours, until he finally turns his head too look at her.

She's so peaceful and relaxed looking that he can almost pretend she's merely asleep in his bed, about to wake up at a moment's notice. He watches her, like one watches a lover, memorizing the steady rise of her chest, the dip of her collar bone, the curve of her neck, the outline of her lips, and the way her hair falls on the pillow like a pink halo. His hand snakes up to those pink tresses, overgrown through months of neglect. He takes a lock of hair in his fingers, rubbing it between his thumb and his index finger before bringing it to his lips. Once, petal soft hair is now course with split ends.

As he brushes her hair across his lips he frowns. It's not right. She always paid careful attention to her hair. It probably took several hours a week for her to keep it so healthy and kept.

He feels a prickle of anger form in his heart. How could he let her get into such a state. It's unforgiveable. She gave up everything to see him returned to his birthplace. She sacrificed herself so that he wouldn't have to live with the sorrow of having killed his best friend. She loved him incessantly despite all the grave crimes he committed. Yet here he was, failing in the most basic tasks of caring for her hair.

With a great deal of effort he pulls himself up. He doesn't really want to move but the problem concerning her hair possesses his body to act on its own accord. Slowly, he pulls back the covers, unveiling her entire form to him. Something pulls at his heart but he ignores it, instead bending down to snake his arms beneath her knees and back. He pulls her up, resting her snugly against his chest as he carries her out of her room for the first time since she arrived in it. His eyes remain stuck on her face, as he walks down the hall.

He twists and turn with expert grace until he reaches his destination. It's a bathroom located on his side of the house. Her side is too much of a reminder that she's damaged and broken.

Carefully, he sets his precious cargo down in the large tub, paying particular attention to support the base of her skull in his hand. He brushes the loose strands of hair off her face. With equal gentleness, he slides the loose fitting kimono off her shoulders, letting it pool in a heap around her mid-section. Aware of her modesty, he keeps his eyes plastered on her face, never once letting them wander to forbidden places. Then he reaches up with his spare hand and turns the faucet to let lukewarm water rivet down her forehead and through her hair. He tilts her head back further, to prevent the waters liquid tendrils from working their way down the plane of her neck and chest.

When her hair is wet and matted to her face, he grabs a bottle of shampoo from the ledge and slowly works his hand into her scalp, massaging and combing through her tangled hair as he lathers the soap deep into every crevice. He does the same with the conditioner, slowly easing his fingers through her hair and relishing the way it clings to his hand in the same way that a newborn wraps it's fingers around that of its parents.

He rings the water out and sets her up against the edge of the tub, being sure to fasten the kimono back around her chest before he fetches a brush hidden somewhere in one of the drawers beside the sink. He spends a good 30 minutes combing her hair, making sure to get every little knot out of the way. It's almost perfect but he hesitates a moment, deep in thought as he tries to discover what's missing.

It strikes him as he sweeps some hair off the small of her back. The length isn't right.

Quickly, he departs and returns with a kunai of which he uses to trim her hair and return it to its proper, shoulder-length style. When he's done, he takes a moment to admire his handiwork. It's the first time he's cut someone's hair that is not his own.

Washing her hair becomes part of their daily routine. He promises himself that he will never let her hair grow course again. He will never let it lose its luster because one day, his sleeping beauty might open her eyes and he didn't think he could look at them without a twinge of guilt knowing he didn't take the best of care of her.

.

.

.

He starts to sit with her after he trains in the morning, and then again in the evening. It's getting more and more difficult to concentrate on training with Naruto or Kakashi because the entire time his body wants to be somewhere else. Even when they're talking to him, his thoughts are on her. It's an antsy feeling where his body stands on edge as if a constant electrical current is running through him.

He receives no escape, even at night, because she consumes his unconscious mind then too.

Having to eat ramen with Naruto after days of begging is particularly tortuous. He only gives in to avoid the questioning stares that focus their attention on him every time he denies the request. Through the entire meal, his body screams at him in a desperate plead to get back to her side.

Amidst the one-sided laughter, the blonde male turns serious as he clears his throat and looks over his friend with concern.

"_She'd want you to be happy Sasuke," _his tone is barely above a whisper.

Dark eyes stare blankly into compassionate blue ones, before he suddenly sets down his money and departs.

He's already been away from her for too long.

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.

.

The days blend together and before he knows it, it's been a year since their lives became entwined.

He finds himself staring at her unmoving form, like so often he does. On this particular occasion, his attention is stuck on her pink lips. He oddly wonders if it's possible for someone's lips to grow stuck together through lack of use but shakes the thought from his head. Then he focuses on the slight cracks that mar those formerly soft, moist lips. He can almost remember the way they quirked up in an insecure smile after she would ask him out on a date during their genin days.

Without realizing it, he finds his fingers dancing along the edges of her lower lip, tracing left and right. He catches himself wondering what it'd feel like to have those lips on his.

The thought disturbs him and he quickly takes his leave, vowing never to let his thoughts wander like that again.

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.

.

Sitting in his familiar spot, he takes a bite from a deliciously ripe tomato, catching the juices with his hand before it can slide past his neck and onto his chest. It's a rare moment of what could be described as satisfaction, only broken by the sound of rustling fabric that reaches his ears.

Glancing up, his breath catches in his throat. The tomato drops, forgotten on the floor as he sees two half-lidded green eyes gazing up at him.

"This… has to be a dream" he says breathlessly. He's paralyzed in his seat, afraid to move and break the illusion.

She winces slightly as she tries, unsuccessfully, to pull herself up. He jumps up and eases her into a sitting position, still unsure if he's really awake.

"Sasuke-kun," she murmurs softly, that gentle smile gracing her beautiful features once again. It's enough to make his breath hitch in his throat.

She's awake, she's really awake! His stomach performs a flip and he _almost_ smiles.

He grabs her lithe body and holds her tightly against himself, nuzzling his face in her neck and sighing deeply.

She giggles lightly, running her fingers through his messy black hair. For the first time in a long while, he feels alive. A flame lights in his chest and the urgency to get even closer itches at his side. His tongue darts out, brushing against her throat. She gasps, and pulls him closer. He starts kissing along her neck, travelling up to her face before pausing above her lips.

"Why are you stopping?" She licks her lips to moisten them, gazing at him with eyes full of yearning.

The sight sends any semblance of self-control he possessed out of door and into oblivion. He climbs on top of her, straddling her hips as pulls her into a hot and needy kiss. His tongue runs along the bottom lip and unhesitatingly she opens her mouth, inviting him in. Their tongues dance and slide along each other, each clinging to the other as if they were one.

His hands are sliding down her chest, rushing to untie her obi and remove the offending material. At the same time, his hips rub against her, the ache pooling in his loins and quickly sending him over the edge. He moans into her mouth, his need quickly growing harder in his pants.

"Sakura," he gasps, starting to move more vigorously against her.

She doesn't answer, and her hand drops from his hair, landing limply at her side. He pulls back, confusion written across. As he sits back to gaze at her, he starts to feel the pull of something, wrenching him away from her prone body and into darkness.

.

He bolts upright in his bed, hot and sweaty with the sheets tossed haphazardly over his form. Shifting his legs slightly, he lets out a hiss at the painful ache between his legs.

It was all just a dream. A dream that left him with an unshakeable reminder of his treacherous thoughts.

He shuts his eyes in deep concentration, trying to will his body back under his control. Instead, he sees her lips, descending down his chest to his navel, travelling further… he releases a throaty moan. This is not what he wanted. He desperately tries to think of something, anything, else but his focus keeps returning to his pink haired teammate.

It's sick, it's disgusting. He keeps telling himself as his hand snakes down his abs and under the waistband of his boxers. There was something wrong with him. He shouldn't be thinking of her unconscious body as his hand wraps around his manhood. He groans and bites his bottom lip. She was under the same roof as him, _for God's sake!_ She's helpless and defenseless to his advances. He starts to pump himself, up and down. The entire time he pictures it not as his own hand but has hers, wrapped coyly around him as she squeezes and scrapes her fingers against him.

Faster, he strokes himself into a frenzied pace, gasping and grunting, as he draws nearer to completion. His breathing comes out in pants and sweat is dripping down his bare chest. He feels himself twitch in his hand, as he gives the final few rough strokes. Again, those maddening pink lips of hers flash through his mind in a final yank that has his hips thrusting up in release. Unabashedly his head is thrown back in a silent scream as his orgasm rips through him, sending afterquakes riveting through his body. His hot seed fills his hand and soaks his boxers. He pants, unmoving on the bed.

Absentmindedly he thinks to himself that his vow not to let his mind wander lasted less than a day.

As his afterglow leaves him, he's left with a nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He was definitely slipping.

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.

.

It always happened the same way now. He'd lay with his head down on his pillow; thinking to himself the most remote, boring subjects to drift to sleep to. Sometimes it was challenging math equations, other times it was Naruto's yammering on about the importance of ramen to one's diet. No matter what it was, the result remained the same. He'd wake up to a coil in his stomach wound so tightly that no number of cold showers had any effect.

He had to resort to the shameful and indecent act of jerking himself off to thoughts of his female teammate who lay unconscious in his own house. At times in the middle of his lust-filled haze, the thought crossed him, what would she think if she were to wake up one night to sounds of his gasps drifting through the house?

The thought made him cum harder.

Whenever he finished, the basest form of disgust washed over him and violated him to the core. He felt dirty even after he washed away all evidence of the deed in the shower. No amount of soap or water was enough to wash away his sin.

Finally, one evening he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't do this one more night in a row. He couldn't stand to abase himself and then look in the mirror, barely recognizing his own reflection. It felt like the skin he lived in was foreign. He hated it. He hated having no control or resolve, merely a slave to his primitive and carnal desires. Surely, there had to be a solution, something that could end this madness and set his mind straight. He never used to be like this. He was always in control; when he spent three years in Orochimaru's lair, he never once felt compelled to submit to nightly passions. When he killed Itachi and joined up with Obito, his thoughts, perhaps consumed by reckless desire for revenge, still remained pure and uninhibited by bodily need.

He never felt this way until he was forced to take care of _her. _

His fists clench at his sides as he thinks of the pititful depths he's been driven to while under her spell. Maybe this was all part of her plan. Force him to understand a whole new level of suffering for rejecting her all those years ago. He had to give it to her, this was some master plan. Manipulating his thoughts and desires until they were filled only with thoughts of her.

He storms into her room, the door never replaced since that night he tore it from its hinges. Marching up to her, he grabs her shoulders and shakes, never more frustrated or angry with this girl in his life.

"Wake up!" He bites out. She says nothing.

"Wake up," he yells again, fisting the fabric of her kimono in his hands. Still, she remains silent. He commands repeatedly, over and over, for her to wake up. He can't take it anymore.

"Please, please wake up," He starts to beg and finds himself climbing on top of her, pinning her body under his and shaking her again, in a desperate plight to rouse her. It doesn't succeed.

"I… I can't go on like this anymore," he feels unfamiliar hot liquid escape from his eyes and watches as they fall unceremoniously on the unconscious body below. Soon, they're rolling down in an uncontrollable stream, dampening her clothes, neck and face.

He grits his teeth as he leans his head closer to hers.

"If you wake up," he finds himself pleading with her, "I'll do anything you want." His pleas fall on deaf ears.

After a few, unmoving minutes, he lets his heavy head rest against hers.

"Do you really hate me this much," he murmurs against her with tears caught in his lashes.

This must be her revenge.

He grows mesmerized by the feel of her shallow breath brushing across his face. It makes him forget why he came here in the first place, or why he's straddling her with her lips mere millimeters apart from his own. Again, curiosity takes hold of him, making him wonder what it'd feel like to have their lips connected as one. He can't resist, it's like gravity pulling him down.

His lips graze against hers, softly at first. They remain still, as if testing her reaction to his touch. Of course, she does nothing. His tongue darts out, cautiously, moistening those dry lips of hers before he presses against her more firmly.

If he could just…

He takes hold of her chin, forcing her mouth open and delving that hot, slick tongue of his deeper inside her mouth. Melding his lips to hers, he hungrily devours all that he can, roughly claiming her mouth with his. Their saliva mixes and reaches every corner of her mouth.

It's even better than he imagined it would be.

With a sigh, he pulls back, the need for air too great to continue satisfying his wanton curiosity. The sight of a string of saliva connecting their mouths is enough to make him groan, as a shiver travels down his spine. He wants more, he _needs_ more.

A roll of the hips against hers is enough to snap him from his reverie. The illusion broken by the realization of his twisted desire.

He draws back in disgust, wiping his filthy mouth with the back of his hand and quickly scampers off her as if she's a deadly toxin. He backs away in partial disbelief, his eyes lingering on her form for only a moment before he quickly hurries out of the room. Making it to the bathroom, thoughts of his sick perversion force him to retch up a mixture of dinner and stomach acid into the toilet.

As he sits there with his head pressed against the cool porcelain of the toilet seat, he crumbles. It's too much to bear.

He's a monster. A sick, disgusting monster.


	2. Struggles

**Rating: **M for Sexual Content

**Author's Notes: **Hmm, chapter 2! This was a fun chapter to write... more interaction with other people and who doesn't love to write/read about jealousy?

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**Twisted, Part II**

Pushing his way past the guards outside the Hokage's office, Sasuke forced the doors open with such force that they slammed loudly against the walls and left small indents. He didn't care though, his mind was possessed by a single thought; a sole determination that needed to be fulfilled.

He slams his hands down on the desk, demanding the attention of the blonde woman, who tries to ignore his grand, dramatic entrance by keeping her head buried in the scroll before her.

"Tsunade!" He snaps loudly and without the slightest bit of respect for her exalted office. He learned long ago that this woman was far more sadistic than she appears, because only a person who's perfected the art of inflicting torment on others would pick such a _perfect _punishment for him.

She makes him wait.

"What is it, Uchiha?" She peers up at him, anger written clear across her face.

"I demand that you remove her from my care," he bites out, not at all caring if he crosses this woman.

The anger fades from Tsunade's face. She can't say she didn't expect this day to come, in fact, she expected him to come to her months ago but now that he's standing here before her, it's surprising nonetheless. Behind the disrespect and anger, there's a certain desperation in his voice that's hard to ignore. She decides to push him a bit, in an effort to get a glimpse further behind the mask that he wears so well.

"Remove who?"

His expression falters for a split second, repulsed by her feign of ignorance. Such a crafty, evil woman.

"You _know _who," he grits out, eyes narrowed dangerously. He doesn't have time to play games. He has to see this matter settled, and settled straight away while he still possessed an ounce of his sanity, of his self-control and self-respect.

"For what reason would I do that?" The blonde woman examines him with rapt attention; her tone filled with childlike curiosity.

"I just," he pauses and rubs his temple in frustration, "I need her out. I can't be near her any longer. It's… too _hard_." He fumes, biting the last word out like it's poison. Honestly, making him admit something that sounded so pathetic, this woman really was the devil.

"It's hard?" She scoffs. "A punishment isn't supposed to be easy, Uchiha."

"I _know_ that," he spits out in insult. But, this was more than a punishment. This was worse than a life sentence, worse than death. It was Hell on Earth. All those years that he trained with Orochimaru, the weeks he served as a member of Akatsuki, an alley with Madara; the time he turned his blade on Naruto or tried with actual conviction to strike _her _down with his chidori and then a kunai. In those times people thought he was a monster. What would they think of him now, if they knew even half the things he wanted to do to her. With her _body_.

Again, his anger flared and the wood desk started to crack under the weight of his chakra laced hands. The adrenaline coursing through his veins made his eyes bleed red, revealing his clan's cursed sharingan.

"How long do you expect me to keep her? I can't look at her anymore; I need her to be gone."

The woman sitting before him instantly stood up, meeting the raven haired male with equal ferocity.

"You will keep her for as long as it is necessary."

The two engage in a silent battle of the eyes, refusing to give way to the other. Sasuke's eyes narrow faintly, his heavy breathing a clear indication of his ire. _As long as it is necessary? _Necessary for what? To drive him crazy? To make him suffer? Repent? He felt every single one of them. Not a day or minute, or even a second went by where he didn't feel guilty. Where he didn't hate himself for existing. Just what did she want from him? For him to grovel at her feet, begging for forgiveness? Or maybe, for him to throw himself on his sword and end it all himself. Perhaps then, she would recognize it was necessary.

Tsunade sighed, surprising her counterpart, and shook her head.

"You still haven't learned your lesson."

What.

His hands balled into fist with such force that his knuckles turned a clear and distinct white. _This woman. _Not only was she a sadist, she was also stupid. How could she possibly say that. He didn't learn his lesson? He lived with it every day when his pink haired teammate's words echoed through his mind. _Revenge won't make you happy, nor me_. How ironic, how prophetic, that the one who uttered those words was the one lying unconscious.

"I have." His voice was dangerously low.

"You have _not_. Otherwise you wouldn't be here right now." The blonde returned to her chair, releasing an exasperated sigh.

Sasuke takes a step back, observing the woman with his default indifferent expression. His lips remain sealed in a straight line as her words repeat in his mind. He doesn't understand. She's speaking nonsense.

"Now. Unless there is some other reason, aside from it being _hard_, that Sakura," he flinches, "should not remain under your care…" Her voice fades off as she regards the Uchiha expectantly.

Reasons? He can think of a million. She's making him lose his senses. He's going to hurt her. Take advantage of her. Take something of hers without permission. He'll do things to her that would shock and disgust even the lowliest of criminals. He opens his mouth to speak, to tell her all of his worries but his voice gets caught in his throat. It's the right thing to do. Any normal person would seek help, to stop themself from committing some unspeakable act. It was his duty to protect her.

But.

He pictures her soft pink hair, her red lips, her alabaster skin. He sees her lying in that bed of hers, in his house. Who would take care of her? Who would keep that hair in pristine condition? Moreover, the mere thought of her being gone, far away from his gaze, it pulls at his heart. Surely, they would never let him see her again if he admitted to being a danger around her? He couldn't…

His eyes widen a fraction of an amount at the realization.

He couldn't live apart from her.

"I…" He knows what the right thing to do is, except…

"There is no other reason."

There is no doubt about it. He is a selfish, unkind person.

"Good. Then you may kindly show yourself out." Tsunade gives one last nod before turning her attention back down to the paperwork on her desk.

When he makes it out of the Hokage's office, he releases a steady sigh he wasn't even aware of holding. He was…

Relieved?

Just how awful could he be.

.

.

.

Obsidian eyes stared down at the pink form before him, her listless body still teasing his mind on a daily, and nightly, basis. It had been a week since he visited Tsunade and despite his acceptance that he could not do away with her, he felt worse than ever.

How many times?

How many times did he ask her to wake up? Beg her for a sign. _Anything_. Just to indicate she was at least partially aware of her own, continued state of existence? All he needed was the slightest movement, a twitch of the finger or toe, to know that there was at least some reason for hope. Yet, she was unforgiving and unmoved by his pleas. She denied him again and again.

He held up a kunai to her neck. What was the point in her living this half-life? It would be a courtesy to end this shell of a body she'd become.

Bending down slowly, he lowered his lips to her ears. Shaking off the shiver that ran down his spine as he breathed in her aroma, he spoke in an unnervingly calm voice.

"Give me a _sign._" His eyes darted to every part of her body, waiting. Watching.

Nothing.

"If you don't do something now, I'll end this. We'll both be free."

Again, he waited. He waited for many minutes, until at least an hour passed.

"Fine, have it your way," he hisses out in annoyance.

Pulling back, he glares at the kunai against her neck with an unrivalled intensity, as if willing it to move on its own. He presses with a bit more force, yet not enough to draw blood, before abruptly yanking his arm back.

No. He couldn't hurt her.

But, his eyes glint maliciously as he holds the kunai up to his own wrist. He _could _spare himself and be rid of this world. Once he was gone, she wouldn't be his responsibility anymore, so whatever happened to her wouldn't have to weigh on his conscience. He suffered all his life, why should he endure it any longer. How much suffering can one person possibly endure before snapping?

"I'll free you of my existence. Maybe then, you'll be able to wake up."

Closing his eyes, he presses down. Slowly, slowly, until the sharp metal blade starts to break the surface and a few drops of blood drip on the white sheets he's standing over. He has to press harder if he wants to do serious damage, but he wants to look at her while he does it. He wants to sear her image into his mind during the entire ordeal. Dark eyes flutter open, expecting to find relief in his decision but instead, he sees something _curious_. His eyes narrow in an effort to comprehend and he leans down closer for greater inspection. What he sees makes his heart skip a beat.

A tear?!

A single tear rolls down her cheek. Her soft, beautiful cheek.

Instantly he launches the kunai into the wall opposite him in pure, unadulterated disgust and he hastily crawls onto the bed beside her to pull her into his arms in a tight embrace. One hand holds her back firmly against him, while the other tangles into that exquisite pink hair of hers and holds her head against his. Cheek against cheek, he whispers breathlessly into her ear.

"I'm so sorry," He squeezes her and closes his eyes to control the escape of fresh tears, so uncharacteristic of him. How could he, for a second, think to be parted from her? So long as she breaths, he will remain on this earth. He kisses her on the forehead.

"I'll never leave you. I'll wait as long as you need, I swear. Please, forgive me," he softly begs, while holding her dear. She was always waiting for him, now it was his turn to wait for her.

He falls asleep with her in his arms.

For her, he can suffer a little bit more.

.

.

.

Warm sunlight streams in through the window opposite the wall of the bed. It's a refreshing symbol. Today, is the start of a new day. No matter how dark the night can be, the bright light of the sun always pierces through come dawn.

Sasuke snuggles closer to the warmth next to him. He buries his head in the crook of her neck, tightens his fingers around the hip his arm rests upon. Basking in the suns warm glow, he feels oddly satisfied. For the first time he can remember, his dreams were not plagued by nightmares and he actually slept through the entire night without rousing once.

How _remarkable_.

Did she possess secret powers that could induce a dreamless sleep? Possibly. She was a healer, after all.

He couldn't help but smile as his lips brushed against her neck, planting a small, chaste kiss. And another. And another. Because, one is never enough. Carefully, he rolls her on her back so he can prop her chin open and claim that mouth of hers in a slow, sensual kiss.

When he pulls back, he stares at her for a brief moment before kissing her cheek and sliding his legs off the bed. His measure of control is better today than normal.

Maybe he's improving?

.

.

Or, just giving in to insanity.

.

.

.

"Ne, ne, Teme!" An obnoxious blonde jogs eagerly to catch up. Sasuke's response is to ignore him.

"Teme! I know you can hear me. Don't be such an ass," Said blonde grabs hold of the Uchiha's sleeve and whirls him around to force his undivided attention. Sasuke glares at the arm grabbing hold of him, deeply disapproving of its presence. His hard eyes then travel up bright blue ones. What he wants to do, is tell the blonde to _piss off_, but the look on his face is telling him that's not going to work today.

"Some of the guys are going out to the bar, you should come." He can tell by the way Naruto said the word _should_, that he was leaving out any room for argument, and the way his pleading eyes implored him accentuated the point. Yet, the thought of spending the entire evening in a crowded bar with irritating people was far from appealing. He just wants to go home and be with her.

Curtly, he replies. "I'm busy." Moving to leave, he lightly tugged on his sleeve, ready to be done with this conversation.

Unfortunately, his friend was not ready to end it and tightened his grip to prevent Sasuke from getting far.

"Just come. Kakashi and Shikamaru will be there." His voice is level and more forceful than before.

Really. He didn't care at all who was there. All he cared about was who _wasn't._

"No, thank you." His reply was harsher than the words implied.

"_Sasuke_." Naruto used authoritative tone. "It isn't healthy, what you're doing."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed. The blonde didn't really have any idea of what he was _doing. _If he did, he'd probably beat him to a pulp. But, he supposed it was impossible to hide from his teammates how much time he spent in his abode.

"How long are you going to punish yourself?" Naruto's voice softened and he let go of Sasuke's sleeve. "It isn't what she would want."

It was hard not to punch Naruto in the face. How did he know what she wanted? Did he really know her so much better than anyone else that he presumed to know exactly what she did and didn't want? Still, he refrained from verbalizing his thoughts because it'd just cause further trouble for himself.

Several seconds of silence stretches between the two, until at last, Sasuke's shoulders begin to sag. He's defeated. It's clear he can't win this so he must relent. He doesn't have Naruto's stamina or confidence to press the issue.

"Come." The blonde turns and begins to walk in whatever direction the bar is.

Sasuke follows with heavy steps.

.

.

.

It was maddening. Frustrating. Irritating. Annoying. Absolutely, eating him alive.

How long had he been sitting at this table. In this bar. His knuckles were white from gripping the edge of the table so tightly. Every cell in his body wanted to flee. Get out of this place. Return to her and promise never, _never, _to go out again. But, every time he made a move to get up, or even _shifted_ in his seat, Naruto's blue eyes were on him, holding him steadfast.

He wants to leave so bad.

Glancing at the clock, he noticed it was only 10 o'clock. How had he seriously only been here for one hour. The thought instantly crossed his mind; did someone put some powerful genjutsu on this place to slow time down?

His sight returned to the companions currently occupying the same table space as him. They were telling jokes and laughing over ridiculously stupid things. Even Kakashi seemed slightly amused. How was it possible that they could be so light-hearted when _she _was broken? Was he the only one who truly cared for her?

Or…

_How long are you going to punish yourself?_

_It isn't what she would want. _

Is it possible that they…

Were happy _for _her.

The notion was confusing. Is it really ok to move on with life? Respect someone's wishes by being… happy?

Sasuke frowned. He had never simply let go when someone he knew and cared about deeply died. When his family died, he sought revenge by killing Itachi. When Itachi died, he sought revenge by going after village elders. With Sakura… well, he was the one with blood on his hands and so deserved to be punished. But if what Naruto said is true—

"Teme, you're draining the life out of the table over there," Naruto deadpanned. The raven haired male responded with a glare that easily portrayed his thoughts, _I didn't ask to come here._

Suddenly, the blonde's face lit up and he snickered a little, glancing over his shoulder to the bar table at the back of the building. Leaning in, he covered the side of his mouth with his hand to prevent unwanting eyes from reading his lips.

"That woman back there," he subtly pointed to a brunette female with an incredibly short skirt and low cut top, "keeps eyeing you. She's totally into you."

Sasuke continued to stare at him, completely void of any emotion. _Why would he care about some woman. _

"You should make a move." Naruto winked at his friend, who in turn, gave a slight scowl. The very notion that he go talk to some random woman. He couldn't even dignify that with a response.

"C'mon Sasuke, it might _help_."

Sasuke glared at the blonde for several seconds. Help him to forget? To move on? Like everyone else seemed to do so well.

Or…

Perhaps it would help to tame his wanton thoughts on a certain pink haired female. Prevent him from touching her inappropriately. From doing something no one on earth could forgive. Perhaps, the reason she was the one in all his fantasies was simply because he was around her all the time. If he could replace her with another in all his fantasies, she would be safe and everything could go back to normal.

He glanced over at the female, then back to Naruto whose eyes were brimming with determination, and sighed.

"C'mon, go for it!" The blonde urged him on again.

Even though the rational part of his mind gave him an excuse for why he should attempt this, it didn't feel right.

Slowly. Slowly, he stood from his seat. Ignoring the stares everyone at the table gave him. Every part of his body felt like yanking him back down. His stomach instantly filled with something heavy and weighted. He didn't want to go. It felt like his body was screaming at him to turn back, but… he had to do this. He had to try for her, right? With a gnawing feel in his gut, he forced his feet to obey. Forced himself to sit next to the woman despite the way his legs tingled, as if ready to give way beneath him.

The woman turned and looked at him. She smirked, not smiled. Instantly it made his skin crawl. That was not the innocent, soft expression he wanted to see.

"Hey there handsome, I'm Ayame," she leaned forward and reached out her hand for a shake. _Too close. _

"Sasuke." Somehow he managed to force his name out, albeit gruffly, but he completely ignored her outstretched hand.

"Ah, not much of a talker are we?" Her index finger temporarily made contact with the centre of his chest as she spoke, "that's ok though. I like tall, dark and handsome."

The contact burned. Not the way _her _touches made him burn with need. This touch elicited a burning sensation that made bile rise in his throat. Her voice wasn't soft and cheerful like it should be. It was sultry and filled with seduction. The way it echoed in his ears made him want to pound his hands against his eardrums and rip them out.

She leaned in further, slipping off the chair and landing with her chest flush against his arm and the side of his body. It absolutely made him nauseous. She wasn't supposed to be all over him like that. She wasn't supposed to be dressed so scantily. She was supposed to be modest and shy to his touch. This woman. She didn't blush at all. His hand twitched at his side. He didn't like this. Was this really supposed to help him? It made him feel utterly disgusted.

"How bout," her mouth brushed against his ear as she whispered more deeply, "we take this some place more private." He felt her hand drop to his knee and start to ascend. Up his leg, up his thigh, moving toward—

This was all wrong. This woman… this _thing _before him… she did not have the right voice. She did not have the right expression. She did not have the right lips. Her eyes were all wrong. Her hair was definitely without a doubt the completely wrong colour. She didn't act how she was supposed to. Everything about her was _wrong_. She was not _her_.

He saw white.

"Get. Off. Me." His eyes blazed red and narrowed dangerously. The woman immediately glanced up, eyes wide in fear from his dark voice. She remained helplessly frozen as he stood, with his full height above her.

**_How dare she._**

How dare she touch him like that. How dare she even look at him. This disgusting, awful, pathetic excuse of a woman.

Then, he shoved her. He shoved her with all the force he would an enemy and prayed to God her neck would snap in the fall.

His hopes fell short.

Maybe she would've been badly injured, if Naruto didn't jump in and catch her as she flew backwards. In the next instant, Kakashi grabbed one of his arms and held it awkwardly against his back, so that if he moved or resisted pain would shoot up his arm and to his shoulder.

Both men were alerted to the dangerous spike in his chakra.

"Teme, what the hell is wrong with you!" Naruto grit out angrily as he steadied the woman to her feet. It was such a bizarre and sudden outburst. Sasuke was supposed to be the cool, calm, collected one, not hurdling a poor woman across the room.

Sasuke continued to glare, still trying to catch his breath, which had sped up dramatically in his anger. He still wanted to go over and pound that woman into the ground. He didn't know _why_. His body screamed bloody murder.

Slowly regaining control over his emotions, his sharingan slipped from his eyes, returning to their usual obsidian colour.

"Come on, Sasuke." His sensei led him out the bar, not releasing him until they were several meters outside. Even when he released him, the gray haired man continued to eye his student warily, searching for some kind of answer as to why he would behave so roughly. It had been pure rage that leaked out of him. He meant to do actual harm.

"Sasuke, why did you behave in such a way?" Kakashi asked slowly, his perceptive eyes taking in every detail. He noticed the way his student's eyes remained distant, as if thinking of something entirely far away, and the way he kept his body slightly hunched over. Then, Sasuke's back turned to him, shielding his sensei from witnessing the dark and inner turmoil racking through his innermost thoughts.

Sasuke waited until he leveled his breathing and calmed his heartbeat to its usual steady pace before turning to face the other man completely. Seamlessly, he slipped back into his usual blank mask. He just had to get away from here as quickly as possible. Running his head through his raven hair, he let out a slow, deep exhale before speaking.

"I must've had too much to drink," his voice was almost bored, but he kept his unblinking gaze steadfast with the older man's, as if challenging him to refute the claim. A minute of silence stretched between them.

Finally, Kakashi relented, bowing his head slightly to let out a sigh.

"Go home and get some sleep."

He disappeared into the night without uttering a reply.

Kakashi turned quickly on his heels and headed back into the bar. As he returns to the table, his eyes narrow slightly. Looking over at the seat Sasuke had been occupying, he frowns.

His sake remained untouched, full to the brim.

.

.

.

It was with urgency that he rushed to her bedside, and without the slightest bit of hesitation, he slipped under the covers and buried himself in her warmth and familiar scent. He reaches his hand up to her face and starts to run his fingers delicately through her hair, enchanting him like so many times before.

His reaction at the bar tonight, it was now undeniable proof to himself that the only touch he craved was that of the woman he now lay with. No one else. Only her. Just thinking about being with someone else made his stomach tie in knots. There's no way she could possibly want him to move on. Not with someone else. There's just no way, because everything about it felt so wrong. It went against nature.

Yes. He needed her.

The memory of that woman's lips against his ear, her hand on his thigh; it was revolting. The mere thought… he had cleanse himself. Somehow.

His fingers left her hair and his thumb brushed along her lips. It only took a few sweeps across her lower lip before he had his answer. He pulled down her chin and filled that small mouth of hers with his greedy, hungry tongue. Her mouth was delicious, he didn't think he could ever get enough of it. He was addicted and needed more.

Quickly he leaned his weight on his free arm and left knee, swinging the other leg around her body so he could hover above her and get a better angle into that sweet mouth of hers.

Only when the need for air became necessary did he draw back. Deep breaths filled the room as he studied her face, while catching his breath. Her lips were reddened by his ministrations. It should've stopped him, reigned in his desire, but instead it made him shudder with lust. She was even more beautiful than before.

This time, when he rolled his hips against hers, he shook with want. He performed the action again and gasped. It felt. So. Good.

One of his hands slid down to her hips where he used it to lift her lower portion up slightly for greater friction. He should stop. He should definitely stop. A distant voice in his head screamed at him that this was wrong, but how could he listen to it when this definitely felt good. He kissed her as he rubbed against her until he was unbearably hard and breathing harshly against her neck.

There was no way he could stop. His hand left her hip and quickly undid the button to his pants. Roughly, he shoved them down, along with his boxers, so that his hand could move unperturbed by the material of his clothes. This was not right. He groaned as he began to pump himself. Maybe it was wrong. But. He didn't care at all anymore.

He could just imagine her wrapping her legs around his waist, dragging him in closer and crying out his name with the same, fervent need. She would be completely naked with her sweaty body clinging to his and begging, _pleading, _him to bring her to that sweet, mind-blowing conclusion.

Pumping into his hand aggressively, he stared down at her motionless face. Their bodies were so close. He could feel her body heat mingling with his own. This was definitely better than all those times he had to imagine the feel of her body beneath his. He was so close to reaching that absolute high.

He groaned loudly, feeling the taut coils in his gut about to snap.

"Sa-Sakura," he growled out, tightening his grip on his member as he leaned down and roughly bit down on the spot just above her collarbone. With a final pulse he gave way, releasing himself all over her kimono.

She was his.

He panted loudly, resting his head resting against her chest. His entire body shook as his lust washed over him.

Just what power did she hold over him? He wondered this while his finger rubbed circles around the spot he marked her. She looked better with it.

When his high finally rescinded, he rolled onto his back, bringing her with him so she lay on his chest. He thought, as he drifted to sleep, that they fit together so perfectly. Maybe he was a monster. A demon in the night, but even the sun needs the moon. She, with all her perfections, needed a monster like him to maintain harmony in this world.

.

.

Or something like that.

The simpler solution was that the seconds finally ticked down to his insanity.


	3. Possession

**Rating:** M for Sexual Content and some Course Language

**Author's Notes:** Well, possession rears its ugly head in this chapter. Sasuke is really losing his grasp on the line between right and wrong, and Naruto/Kakashi are putting the pieces together.

Currently 3000 words into chapter 4! Damn, really hope I can finish it tonight so I can upload asap. I think their will be a fifth chapter (epilogue) but that will probably be pretty short.

* * *

**Twisted (Part III) **

Sasuke grunted loudly as the built up collection electric nerves burst inside him. His vision temporarily went white as the sweet sensation washed over him, causing his body to shiver. One hand still wrapped around his manhood, the other cupping the bare breast of his pink-haired teammate. The soft mound fit so perfectly in his hand; it was a wonder if her body proportions were made specifically to fit his own.

Leaning down, his lips met hers in a sloppy kiss. He drew back and descended down to her chest, where he sucked the familiar spot just below her collarbone. It left a nice red mark. A mark he always wanted to see there and made sure to renew on a regular basis. He kissed it gently before rolling onto his back and shutting his eyes, trying to regularize his rough breathing.

"Fuck," he breathlessly cussed and ran his fingers through his hair.

It always happened like this. A twisted cycle he was helpless to escape.

He'd try to resist. Consciously remind himself every second of the day how he had to control himself. Had to control his urges so that he could get better. He truly wanted to get better. And, it usually worked. For a couple days. Sometimes, he even got to the point where a minute would pass and he hadn't even thought about touching her once. If he made it past the two-day point, he would start to think that maybe it was possible to stop. Maybe he really could be cured. One time, he even made it an incredible two weeks without touching her.

Those brief moments of optimism, however, were just that. Fleeting and impossible to hold onto because sooner or later that familiar tingling sensation started forming in his stomach. He'd take deep breaths to calm it. Yet, the itch grew stronger until it gnawed and filled his entire body with tension. Still, he'd try to white knuckle it. Will his body to ignore the unpleasant sensations that were building within him.

He had always thought he had a strong willpower.

If he could just get past that most difficult hurdle, maybe he would finally be free from these feelings. But he never did, because when his body twitched and ached with unease and the _need_ to act, his conviction always faltered. Why was he doing this again? To get better? In those moments, he could never really remember why he wanted to get better in the first place. Really. Why did he give a shit? So what if he was messed up. It felt good and erased the unpleasant ache in his belly that made his skin crawl.

He always gave in. Fell back into 'old habits' and found himself hovering over her body, not caring at all if it was wrong. When he came, a sense of relief flushed through his body and mind. The relief sometimes lasted for days. He didn't feel the slightest hint of remorse when he claimed her mouth, fondled her breasts, rubbed against her and marked her up so there was clear evidence that she belonged to him.

Then, the guilt would start to creep in and he'd again vow to himself to get better. To quit seeking the warmth and nearness of her body. The cycle started anew.

He was addicted.

It was a miracle, really, that he hadn't yet taken her completely. He thought about, but a small voice in his head told him that if he were to fill her, he'd cross an invisible boundary that he could never find his way back from. He'd truly be lost in the darkness.

Letting out another long breath, he slowly sat up, glancing down at the girl beside him. She was a mess, with the folds of her yukata hanging open around her chest and his sticky, white substance splashed all over her front. He shifted slightly. Something about the scene made his stomach stir, but he ignored it and instead pulled her into his lap so he could slide off the bed and carry her with ease to the bathroom. Even if he would prefer just to lay in bed with her all night, she needed a bath. Experience taught him that it was best to wash up before evidence of his sin crusted over.

Setting her down gently on the tiled floor of the bathroom, he reached over and turned the knob for the hot water. As he waited for the tub to fill, he began to undress her. Tossing her yukata and sash into the corner, he made a quick mental note to wash them later. It would not do to have their dirty laundry lying about for potential visitors to spot. He stood and paused for a moment as he stared down at the light pink material of her underwear. It's not like he hadn't glimpsed under there before. He did bathe her on a regular basis after all. It just always felt like he was tempting himself too much by removing it.

He dragged his gaze away and leaned down to turn the running water off before dipping his hand in to make sure the temperature was not too hot. Silently, he exhaled as his fingers danced on the surface of the water. It felt nice.

Again, he turned to the girl, his precious pink haired mess, and hesitated as his fingers teased the edge of her panties.

He should… be alright.

Hooking his thumb under the material, he slid the small article of clothing down her thighs, past her knees, over her toes and threw it in the pile with the rest of her clothes.

In a fluid motion he lifted her up, taking care to keep his eyes on her face as he slipped the two of them into the warm bath. Even after all he's done, he still thinks to preserve her modesty. What a silly thing. He rests her back snuggly against his chest and leans against the edge of the tub. Her head resting comfortably against his shoulder, her back flush against him, and her legs stretched out between his own. The position felt… natural.

He sighed, closing his eyes and his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her from slipping.

This felt right.

It was a position that conjured up pleasant thoughts, and made it easy to pretend.

.

.

.

Tilting his head forward he inhales a familiar, floral scent. He buries his face deeper into the mess of pink hair and releases a contended sigh. The fragrance of her shampoo always makes his head start to tingle, as if his head was being massaged from the inside out. Minutes pass, while he's lost in empty thought, just enjoying the feel of her body so close to his.

He draws his legs up slightly and hears the slosh of water in response to the subtle movement. Slowly, his eyes flutter open in partial confusion.

Ah. They were still in the tub. Must have fallen asleep, because the lukewarm water now leaves his exposed skin prickled with goose bumps.

"Sakura," he breathes out quietly. Only on rare occasions did her name fall from his lips.

A shiver passes through his chest and he tightens his hold around her body so that they can share in each other's body warmth. It would be wise to drain the water and get dressed but he wants to relish this moment for a bit longer. It isn't difficult to imagine she's just fallen asleep in his arms; it's a familiar tendency among lovers, right?

Again, his eyes drift shut and he focuses purely on _feeling_. His fingers on her hip start drawing lazy circles on her skin. The simple action itself is like a form of meditation and oddly calming. His other hand descends from her abdomen to her thighs, where he slowly rubs up and down. It's not meant to be sexual in nature, just a gentle caress for the woman that is his.

_His_.

The word echoes in his mind and he can't help but smirk, because it has a nice ring to it. She was here with him. In his house. In his bath. In his arms. She had his mark bruised into her skin. He kisses her cheek, letting his lips linger so he could concentrate on the sensation of her soft skin against his lips. That's right. Her cheek, her lips, and every other inch of her body, it was his to kiss.

He teases her by bringing his fingers dangerously close to that precious spot between her legs. When he repeats the action again, he swears he can almost feel the way her body would shiver against his if she were conscious. The things he could do, to make her whiter and gasp beneath him… He shudders as he slips a finger between her folds. There were so many ways he could get her to beg.

That familiar – feral – need starts to pool within him.

It was him who was touching her most intimate area right now. He would be the one to take her. He would be her first and _only_.

But, just as the words enter his mind, something makes him stop his ministrations.

Her _first_.

Her _only_.

He would be her first, right?

His eyes snap open but he remains rooted in place. The disturbing thought running through his mind, making his breathing stop altogether and his gut start to fill not with pleasure but with dread.

She hadn't… with anyone else…

His finger withdraws from her as his mind fills with irrational fear. She wouldn't… with Naruto, would she? His eyes drop as he tries to think of hidden clues that could stamp out this sudden wave of doubt over the state of her innocence.

When he aimed his chidori at Naruto, she jumped in front of it to protect him. When his battle with Naruto initiated, she didn't call out his name, she called out to Naruto_. _All those years ago, when he exchanged words with Naruto after trying to kill her – twice – she called out to the blonde then too, and he even remembered her defending their teammate's actions to him. He had been away for many years, what other things transpired between the two that he was unaware of?

Did that mean…

His hand is brought to his mouth, as if he was about to be sick. The mere idea of her being in love with someone other than himself makes his stomach churn and his skin itch with unease. A cold sweat starts to break out on the back of his neck, almost making him shiver only the sudden weight of his limps keeps him from moving a muscle. Is it betrayal that he felt? Her and Naruto?

No.

No, no, no.

His eyes narrow.

She would never. She didn't love Naruto like that. Yes, she cared for him deeply and she would sacrifice herself to save him, but her eyes never shone with the same yearning for Naruto as they did for him. She never called out to Naruto with the same affectionate suffix that she added to his name. She loved him. She would've waited for him. He was sure of it.

He was…

He scowls as he abruptly sits up and reaches forward to unplug the drain. His enjoyment of the bath completely destroyed by the disturbing thought.

.

.

.

As petty as it was, he hadn't managed to sleep properly in a week. He could barely stand in the same room as her because of the nauseous feeling that threatened to overtake him whenever images of her and _someone else_ entered his mind. The same troubling thought continued plaguing his mind. It was foolish. Entirely made up. A figment of his demented imagination, and yet another way in which _she_ was messing with him.

But, alas. No matter how much he tried to convince himself to drop the issue – a baseless and unworthy issue that warranted absolutely zero additional thought since to believe it was true was pure and utter nonsense – he could not.

And so, much to his chagrin, he now sat next to his annoying blonde friend with a large bowl of ramen sitting in front of him.

Quietly, Sasuke listened to his friend blab on about some new technique he was working on. Occasionally, he brought a fresh spoonful of noodles to his mouth and patiently chewed in an effort to make it seem as though he was at least somewhat content to be there. He did his usual, one-word replies and grunts to signal his responses. It was the best he could do.

Finally when the time seemed right, and the blonde took a break from his non-stop chatter, he looked up and carefully observed his friend. Naruto looked up from his bowl as well, turning to face him with noodles still hanging from his mouth but eager to hear what the raven haired man had to say. Sasuke spoke with such infrequency that whenever he did speak, it was usually of significance.

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Sasuke opened his mouth.

"Naruto." He paused, observing ever more closely for the blonde's reaction. And then, as calmly as ever…

"Have you ever fucked someone?"

...

It was instantaneous. The blonde sputtered and choked on his noodles, turning a dark shade of red as he practically fell from his chair with his mouth agape and a finger pointed at the man beside him.

"W-what the hell kind of question is that!"

Sasuke couldn't help but smirk before breathing a sigh of relief.

So he would be her first.

And _only_.

.

.

.

It was unlike him to window shop or even shop in general if it was not either food or weapons, but something in the small shop window caused his feet to stop on their own. On clear display was a beautiful navy blue kimono with thin silver lines running vertically through the fabric. The edges of the fabric, at the sleeves and base of the kimono, were decorated with finely sewn twigs and branches, and various hanging leaves and flowers in bloom. A lone caterpillar hung, cocooned in one of the branches, while several butterflies danced across the material. The pattern told a story. A simple, but meaningful story.

Making up his mind, he tugged on the shop door and made his way inside. The old wooden floors creaked under his weight and a young, plain looking girl gave a startled gasp behind a counter.

"W-welcome, sir!" She bowed her head lowly. When she stood straight again, she pushed her round glasses further up on her nose and stared wide-eyed as the customer turned his back to her and ran his pale fingers over the material of the kimono on display in the window.

"O-oh, um… that kimono is—" She started talking, still flustered by the handsome man's presence.

"I'll take it." He spoke softly, still with his back to her.

"Um, the price is—"

"I don't care."

The girl nodded her head, having been interrupted twice. Quickly, she stepped around him and proceeded to remove the fancy kimono from its display, sparing shy glances at the male every now and then. He didn't seem to notice and instead stared at some point in the distance.

When she finished removing the kimono, she carried it delicately in her arms back to the counter and started to fold it. Swallowing deeply, she again made to talk to the man, and silently admiring how his unruly raven locks still managed to capture the image of perfection flawlessly.

"The store policy on this grade of kimono is to offer any alterations free of charge. So… if there's anything…" Her voice faded weakly as she stared at the strangers back.

Alterations?

Sasuke remained lost in contemplation. Butterflies represent rebirth, the metamorphosis of something plain and defenseless into a thing of remarkable beauty. It was a feat of nature that a simple caterpillar could wake from its slumber, transformed anew.

What would Sakura's rebirth entail?

He turned to face the young shopkeeper with a hard gaze, making her drop her guard once again and fidget nervously with her hands.

He didn't need to ask.

He already knew what Sakura _Haruno's_ rebirth entailed.

"I would have you sew the Uchiha fan on the back collar."

.

.

.

Shifting his weight from one leg to the other, Sasuke found he was not in a good mood. He stood at the foot of her bed with his arms crossed and the faintest of frowns adorning his otherwise, well-masked face.

"We all miss you, Sakura-chan." The blonde smiled warmly as he leaned in to brush aside some loose strands of pink hair. His fingers lingered and the palm of his hand rested softly on her cheek in an affectionate gesture.

He was definitely not in a good mood at all.

His jaw tightened as his gaze cast briefly from the blonde to the silver haired man sitting in the chair at her bedside. It was times like these where he had to exercise the absolute best of his control in order to avoid creating any greater degree of suspicion among his companions. The blonde shifted and immediately his obsidian eyes fell back onto his orange form. Watching.

"There's so much we'll have to tell you when you wake up."

His eyes narrowed a fraction when Naruto's tan fingers entwined with hers. Noticing how his thumb brushed back and forth against the backside of her hand.

What did he think he was doing? Touching her like _that_.

He took deeper breaths, trying to quell the growing heat he felt boiling inside his chest.

Wasn't he leaning in a bit too close?

His fingers twitched and he clenched his hands in an effort to keep himself rooted in place. He couldn't tear his eyes from the way Naruto's hand was holding hers. The way Naruto's body hovered over hers. He shouldn't be so close to her.

_Get away from her. _

The blonde's other hand swept across her forehead.

His eyes darkened. Get. Away. From. Her.

"When you wake up, Team 7 will be reunited once more," the blonde grinned and slowly started to lean in closer to her forehead. The path of his lips unmistakeable, he was going to...

"_Naruto_."

He's the only one who can touch her.

The object of his ire stilled, startled by the icy command and looked up with a questioning gaze. Even their sensei studied him through the corner of his eyes. He didn't care. He just needed them to back away before he actually lost it. Why did they have to come visit her at all.

"Sasuke?"

Again, he forced himself to release a slow, steady breath in order to prevent himself from walking right over to the other male and throwing him across the room. In fact, while he was at it, he would rip those arms of his right off for added measure just to make sure he never dared to touch her again.

"I just thought," he starts, calm, composed, collected; just as an Uchiha should be. "You wanted to show me your new jutsu." Naruto regards him hesitantly, as if trying to read underneath the underneath like all good shinobi are taught to do.

A pregnant pause stretches between them until, finally, the blonde consigns himself to whatever pathetic excuse he came up with to explain the behaviour.

"You're particularly grumpy today…" he grumbles as he takes a step back and withdraws his hands from their unconscious teammate's form.

Thank God. He was not touching her anymore.

"I didn't expect you to be here all morning," Sasuke all but hisses out.

_You two really overstayed your welcome_.

"Yeah, well, not everyone has as much time to spend with her as you!" Naruto's hands land on his hips as he pouts over the seeming injustice.

The only injustice was that he had to share her at all.

"I just can't wait for Sakura-chan to wake up so she can give you a good thrashing… Your miserable ass definitely needs it."

He doesn't bother to respond, mostly because all the things he immediately thinks to say are entirely inappropriate and involve violent threats. Instead, he opts to watch the blonde as he grudgingly treads towards the doorway.

"Let me just get a drink before we leave." His orange tracksuit disappears down the hall, allowing Sasuke to relax just a little. There was still another problem to be dealt with.

He glares at the other male occupant in the room, hoping he could take a hint and follow Naruto's lead. He did not have the patience to deal with this today. Or any other day for that matter.

Slowly, the older man rises from the chair.

Finally.

_No_. Wait.

Kakashi glances at him. Something remains hidden in the depths of his perceptive, dark gray eye. His fingers stretch out as he lightly rakes them through his pink-haired student's soft hair, brushing her locks away from her ear before leaning down to whisper something secret.

Sasuke's anger flares once more as he witnesses the physical contact. It's entirely unacceptable. No one can touch her. Only him. He's going to snap the fingers of anyone who tries lay a hand on her. He steps to the side, entirely intending to make his way around the bed so he can slap the offending hand away but stops abruptly in mid-step.

Kakashi's head pulls to the side. He's looking at something.

Sasuke can only watch with bated breath and rapt attention as his sensei's fingers drift down to the V of the female's kimono. The gray-haired man pushes the material aside slightly and stands up for closer inspection. His eye squints with a mixture of confusion and… something more. Curiosity, perhaps? It's hard to tell but there might be a small frown hidden beneath his mask.

Ah.

He's spotted _it_.

"Sasuke," his sensei pauses, tracing his finger delicately over the supple skin of his unconscious student.

"Where did this mark come from?" The words fall slowly from his lips, an impossible reasoning forming in his mind. One that he's not yet ready to accept or credit much weight to.

Sasuke takes a few carefully measured steps until he's standing beside the man, and observes the fading yellow bruise just under her collarbone. He should probably be worried.

"That?" He asks with mild disinterest. "It was probably just one of the nurses. You know they change her."

They don't, actually. He relieved them of that duty some time ago.

He really should be nervous.

"Maybe she bruises easily." He nonchalantly offers a weak excuse, while gazing down at his sensei's hand, which is still hovering above the faint mark.

Slowly, with particular attention paid to the strength of his grasp, he reaches down and lightly takes hold of Kakashi's wrist. The image of violently snapping the man's wrist and flinging him across the room is quickly discarded. It's not the time for such actions.

"Now," his voice is low, and laced with just a hint of smugness, "Let's leave before Naruto grows impatient." He tugs on the arm, dragging it away from his precious belonging.

He should care.

But.

Why should he have to hide his ownership over her?

It would make things much easier if they knew not to touch that which belonged to him.

.

.

.

Like so many times before, he sauntered into her room late in the night. A time when most citizens of Konoha are sound asleep in their beds. Only this night, he felt a twinge of something nasty festering in his belly.

It was an emotion he'd felt thrice before. First, when he was a child and overheard his father praising his older brother to a small crowd of people; listing all the achievements he'd attained at such a young age, an age much younger than himself. Then again, he felt it some months after his family was massacred. As he made his way back to his lonely apartment after a day of wandering and training, he spotted a young girl walking hand-in-hand with her mother and father, smiling brightly without a care in the world. The next time he felt it was not for several years later, when he realized how much power the dobe developed in such a short window of time. Much more power than he'd managed to accumulate in the same period.

It is a hideous emotion that brings out the very worst in people.

_Jealousy_.

He tried to push down the anger he felt over what had transpired earlier in the day by attacking Naruto with particular intent during their training session. He directed his rage into each punch, each kick, each swipe of the sword, but still the unbridled fury grew inside.

They departed, both bruised and with haggard breath. He failed at beating the disgusting emotion out of his system. Even as he stumbled his way home and flopped on his bed in exhaustion, he still felt consumed by it. He tried to sleep, use unconsciousness to simmer the fire raging in his gut, but even that was not enough to free himself.

So, he finds himself standing over her body, glaring down at her innocent face and clenching his fists at his sides as if there's some invisible stress ball in his hands.

He can still picture it. Naruto, holding her hand and pressing his ugly palm to her cheek. _As if_ there was something between them. Kakashi, rubbing his filthy fingers over _his _mark. Both of them with their hands in her hair. The mental image brings a scowl to his lips.

People touching her like that. How _disgusting_.

He's the only one.

She is his. Not theirs.

His. His. His.

Gritting his teeth, he starts to stalk, back and forth. He wants to take her right now. Rip her clothes off and slam into her mercilessly. Claim every part of her body until she's bathed in his scent. Mark up her neck, and her chest, and her thighs. Everywhere! So everyone can see that she's his.

He should do it.

Abruptly, he stops his pacing and again glares at her, taking in her unmoving form. He hesitates for a moment as he grabs the bed sheet and yanks it down roughly, throwing in some place beyond the end of the bed.

_Isn't this a little bit her fault?_ For doing this to him.

_Yes._ Yes, he thinks it is.

His fingers grab the edge of his shirt and he violently pulls it over his head and drops it on the floor without caring at all where it lands. In the same fluid motion, he makes quick work of his pants, all the while never breaking his heated gaze from her form.

If she would just wake up then he wouldn't be like this.

The mattress dips under his weight as he crawls over to her and climbs on top of her waist. Hastily, he tugs at her obi impatiently, again, heeding no attention to where he tosses it in the room. All he cares about is getting closer to her, feeling her skin pressed firmly to his own. With that thought in mind, he lets his greedy hands roam down her sides, pushing the material aside in his hungry exploration of her skin.

His eyes darken as he takes in her fully exposed upper half. He's quite positive that his idiot teammate and perverted sensei have never seen her like this. Their hands will never be all over her like this. He leans down and nips his fading mark, sucking hard to make sure it gets nice and red. When he's done, he takes her pert bud into his warm mouth to suckle while his hand gropes her other breast with equal vigor.

She is his. All his.

She's a drug that he can never get enough of.

Abandoning her breasts, his tongue drags up her neck to the base of her chin where he leaves a feather light kiss, while looking down at her teasingly peaceful face with half-lidded eyes. It's dark, but he can almost see the way her cheeks would blush at his actions. The way she would squirm and wriggle beneath him as he memorized every curve, every blemish, every hair on her sweet, supple body.

He rakes his fingers through her hair, cradling her head in his hands as he claims her lips, dominating every corner of her moist cavern in a heated kiss. Naruto and Kakashi have never tangled their fingers in her hair like this. Especially not while devouring every part of her delicious mouth.

"Mm," he moans against her as he draws back to suck on her bottom lip, teasing it with gentle prods from his tongue. The site of her swollen, red lips sends a rush through his veins. Heat starts to twist and coil its way down his chest, making his heart thud loudly in his ears. It's a stark contrast to her own steady heartbeat.

How is it that he can never get enough of her?

All he wants to do is rip right into her, once and for all. Take what belongs to him; what she would surely offer him if the circumstances permitted it. Didn't she say she loved him? Didn't she say she would fill his loneliness? His solitude?

He was selfish, he knew. Wanting everything she could possibly give him.

His hips rolled forward, the act eliciting a low and deep moan into the crook of her neck. The fire had spread to his loins, filling his body with untamed desire. A lust that had an insatiable appetite.

"I want you so bad," he whispered, hoarsely into her ear.

He was losing control. The hunger inside him wanting so badly to be filled. He rubbed against her, gasping at the way the friction sent waves of pleasure shooting down his spine. It wasn't enough though.

Clenching his hands in the sheets beneath him, he thrust his stiff erection against the clothed seam between her legs. A new wave of shivers shook through his body with each ground of the hips. He was so close. His ragged breathing beat against her skin, yet still he found the breath to lay kisses on her cheek, her jaw, and the front of her throat. He needed to taste every part of her.

"I _need _you." A throaty groan tore from his lips, betraying that he was still not quite a man but a teenage boy.

God, how he needed her. His entire body ached and radiated heat like a furnace. He wanted to take her. To bury himself deep in her tight walls except…

He wanted to feel her legs wrap around him, drawing him in impossibly closer.

He wanted to hear her scream for him.

For her to gasp and beg him to take her. Again and again.

Another harsh thrust against her had him hissing painfully in her ear. He grabbed her hand —the hand Naruto dared touch before— and wrapped it around his throbbing member. Using his hand to guide her, he pumped himself until he could no longer see straight. Faster and harder, his gasps and moans grew in volume and frequency. To have her hand wrapped around him made the sensations impossibly better, and more real, then every before.

"Sa… kura," he ground out in the midst of groan. He was so close now. Unbelievably so. It became harder to breathe, harder to hold himself above her body.

"Sakura, Sakura!" He chanted her name, desperately wanting a reply but receiving none.

His hips buck forward, head falls against her shoulder and eyes close as he peaks, spilling his hot seed all over both of their hands and in between their bodies. The sweet sensation of unadulterated pleasure ripples through his body, making him weak and hoarse of breath.

He slumps against her, his heavy breathing and rapid pulse slowly filling his senses. For several moments he can do nothing, his mind too hazy and his body too exhausted to move. His body glistens with sweat, making his messy raven hair stick partially to his forehead. If he could freeze this moment in time, just stay wrapped in it forever, he would.

After several minutes he finally has the sense to roll off her and onto his back.

He was so tired and ready to drift off into unconsciousness, but before that… He turned his head, those sinful lips of his dangerously close to his lover's ear…

"You have six days." He whispers.

Wrapping his arms around her and hugging his body close to hers, his eyes drift shut, "Six days to wake up before I take you. Once and for all."

The finality in his voice leaves no room for argument, not from her or himself. He will have her. Whether she's conscious or not, he will have her in six days. He's just giving her the chance to save him from the darkness.

He was selfish, he knew.

But, he would give anything to keep her with him forever.

.

* * *

**A/N:** The climax is approaching! Will Kakashi and/or Naruto make it in time or will Sasuke give in to his dangerous desires!? Hehe, I already know the ending but I guess you will have to stay tuned till next time!


	4. Acceptance

**Author's Notes: **Ahem, I decided to upload what I have so far. Hopefully there's not too many mistakes... guess I'll save most of my comments for below since I don't want to spoil anything up top.

P-please review if you have the time.

* * *

**PART IV**

The sakura petals blew aimlessly in the gentle breeze that dislodged them from their maker. The way they danced and fluttered in the air almost gave them the illusion of a light snowfall. This image only accentuated by the way they littered the ground in a thin veil of pink and white. Their beauty and purity undeniable, but such grace carries with it a fleeting and short shelf life. As soon as their bloom welcomes the gentle embrace of the suns warm rays, their days are already numbered. A few days, a week at most if the weather permits it, but always, the purity they flaunt with such delicacy ends with the fading sun.

Sasuke rolled a soft petal between his fingers, his dark eyes staring absentmindedly at the petal-littered ground between his legs. He was sitting, with his back leaning against the tree trunk, his legs bent before him and one arm resting on his knee. Two days had passed since his ultimatum, and an eerie calm seemed to collect in his thoughts. Everything built up to this. As sure as the petal in his hand had remitted to the wind's careful guidance, another Sakura would soon follow. Her days were numbered. Soon she would be his.

It didn't matter what anyone else thought or even if they discovered his intentions. He didn't really have a plan nor did he know what he would say, all he knew was that he would never be parted from her. No one would stop him. No one _could _stop him. Soon, they would be bound together. He just had to wait, four more days.

The soft patter of footsteps in the grass broke him from his trance. Slowly, he looked up to settle his empty sights on a pair of vibrant sapphire eyes, though an unusual hint of serenity mired the depths of his long-time friend's eyes.

"Sasuke." The blonde stood several feet away and glanced up at the sakura tree, which continued shedding its petals. Silence passed between them; not an uncomfortable one, just one that two friends can share from time to time while lost in their own thoughts.

Naruto shifted slightly, still looking up at the tree as he finally spoke again.

"Sakura trees are always pretty this time of year, aren't they?"

"They're always pretty." The soft words left his lips before he realized what he was saying. Internally, he cringed a little at how quickly he responded. _Too quickly_. But outwardly, his cool mask prevailed unbroken.

A small smile broke out on the blonde's face as he returned his attention to the raven-haired male, a knowing look crossed his features.

"You're right." Quiet laughter fills the air, only to be broken a minute later by the same male.

"What are you thinking about?" The grin grows on his tanned face. Sasuke bites back the urge to scowl and instead settles for turning his head to the side in a failed attempt to block the blonde from his vision entirely. Already, he can sense that this is not going to be their usual, minimalistic type of conversation. He just wants to be left alone.

The only company he ever craves is hers.

"Nothing." A hint of annoyance seeps into his usually monotonous tone. He's regretting leaving the secluded premises of the Uchiha compound where he could have just as easily had these thoughts in the courtyard of his large house, but something about the scenery over the hilltops beckoned him closer.

The blonde gives a small roll of the eyes, "Of course." They've been friends for many years, their bond, while tested remained intact. They were like brothers. No. They _are _brother. So, even if Naruto was no expert in reading the exact thoughts and emotions of the ever-guarded Uchiha, he knew him well enough to tell when something was off. And, for a while now, something had definitely been _off_.

"Y'know, this tree reminds me of that mission we had when we were genin. Do you remember when we had to rescue that terrible cat from the tree near our old training grounds?" He starts wiping happy tears from his eyes as he reminisced the tale from a lifetime ago. It's amazing that someone who spent so many years despised by the village he now loved so much could even find such happy memories in the distant past.

Sasuke ignored the contemplative blonde. These were not things he wanted to remember.

"We got Sakura-chan to climb up and she got stuck in the tree with that feral cat! You had to guide her down while I got attacked and all scratched up… My face was swollen for a week! We always got-" His excited banter was abruptly interrupted.

"Naruto." Sasuke's voice held no amusement, "I do not remember."

_I don't want to remember. _

He didn't want to remember those times. Those times when they didn't have to worry about the future before them or the consequences of their actions. When they could do no wrong and didn't have dreams of plunging into darkness. He was different now. There's no turning back the hands of time. His mind is set, he will take what belongs to him and no one can convince him otherwise.

The air between them grows thick.

"You and I, we don't talk with words. We talk with our fists and always have," Naruto paused, his tone rapidly filling with a seriousness that most people never heard.

"Forgive me, I don't feel like fighting today." The sadness in his eyes flickers briefly before filling with sudden determination. Sasuke would've missed the transformation had he glanced over a moment later.

"Stop mourning Sakura," he spoke with steady resolve.

Obsidian eyes narrowed in partial insult and disgust. What did Naruto know of this? Acting as though he had it all figured out; acting like he had some modicum of understanding for how _he _felt. Him? Mourning _her_? No. Was that even possible? His body screamed at him to hold her and draw her close. He wanted to stay with her forever. All he ever thought about was spending time with her. How can you mourn someone if you're always with them?

Once again, his idiot friend had failed in reaching the proper deduction and he had to set him straight.

"I do not-" He started but was cut off.

"You act as though she's already dead!" Naruto's hands flew up in frustration and something more… disappointment, maybe.

"You act like she isn't coming back! You keep blaming yourself and punishing yourself for what you think you did to her. But, you don't give her any credit… You don't care at all for the decisions she made!" His voice rose in aggravation, reaching a shrill pitch by the end of it.

Another type of tear now formed in the corners of his best friend's eyes.

This accusation didn't make sense. And again, like he had with Tsunade, he felt as though someone thought they knew something about him that even he didn't see. Why did they act as though he should not hate himself? His actions were incorrigible; he broke someone so pure, so innocent, so dedicated to easing his pain and he didn't even realize it until she was already gone. Already lost in an eternal slumber. Maybe she wasn't dead, but the Sakura they knew was no longer present.

He was awful. Despicable. A horrible monster. She shouldn't be the one unconscious. Everything he did was wrong and hurt others. If anyone should suffer, it should be him. And yet, the very nature of who he was caused him to take even more from her. Even now, when she had nothing left to give he still wanted more.

"She shouldn't _be_ like that right now," the words flowed from his lips like venom. If not for his actions, for his entire existence, she wouldn't have had to sacrifice herself. She would still be her cheerful, carefree, twelve year old self. Everything he did always resulted in more pain.

"Sasuke," the blonde took a step forward, his voice softer now, and filled with something akin to understanding. It was as if he thought he was close to making a breakthrough with the steely man before him.

"I… I used to blame myself too you know. If I was stronger, she wouldn't have needed to save me. But then, I realized, she would do the same if it had been me, attacking you with a rasangen. She would've blocked my attack to save you too." Again, the blonde smiled sadly, and for the life of him Sasuke couldn't figure out why, which only served to aggravate him further because Uchiha's are supposed to understand everything.

"I think, in that moment, she must've been happy because…" he wiped a tear from his whiskered cheek, "because she got to save us. She was the one to save the dream of team seven. Because of her, we have a future," his voice surged with surety.

Stunned into silence, Sasuke could find no words to reply with. All he could do was stare at his friend in partial disbelief.

Happy?

How could that be? How could she be happy over a fate so cruel? It wasn't fair. Something about it made his stomach drop and anger pool in his gut. Unconsciously, his nails dig into the earth. This one-sided conversation is infuriating. He wants to leave now, get away from the incessantly optimistic voice of his friend that spews nothing but hope and delusions of an idealistic world.

His mind is already made up.

He is committed. Nothing will sway him.

Too lost in controlling his anger, he doesn't notice that the blonde is crouched down next to him until he feels a hand on his shoulder.

"Just be patient a little bit longer, Sasuke. Soon we'll be whole again, I promise!" That familiar, toothy grin beams down at him and _almost _succeeds in breaking through his deeply carved walls except...

It's too late for words.

He's already decided to take what is his. He is a stubborn and selfish man who will abide by the words he whispered into the silence of her room.

The only one who can save him is her, and she has four days left to do it.

.

.

.

Gripping the baseboard at the end of the bed, he glares down at her.

_How is it possible that even when she's not talking, she's still annoying? _

He'd been seething with anger for the better part of the afternoon, ever since his conversation with Naruto ended. That pleasant, accepting calm he felt earlier in the day now completely forgotten.

When they were younger, he'd been able to read her so effortlessly. Even after years of living apart, he could still see everything in those viridian eyes of hers during the occasions she tried to sway him to return to Konoha. Now he was being schooled by Naruto, of all people?!

"You never should have sacrificed yourself!" He spits the words out, clenching the wood under his fingers with even greater strength. He's not sure how things would be different if his chidori had pierced Naruto instead of her, but at least she would be alright. He and Naruto, they knew the consequences of defeat long before the battle even started. What they didn't count on were the actions of a pink haired bystander.

"It…" he stumbles, looking for the right words to say, "It wasn't your fight."

_Why did she always think it was her responsibility to maintain the peace?_

The silence that is so often deafening when he is with her strikes a chord within him, dissipating his anger and replacing it with an emotion he's grown to abhor. Melancholy.

_Why did she always get involved in his business?_

She was never supposed to be part of their fight; she didn't speak the language of fists, her strength was always with words and the honesty of her feelings. After all the fights he and Naruto had, she should've known keep to her strengths.

…

Except after all the years she spent watching, and chasing, and rushing to their sides, he really should've realized that any fight with Naruto would undoubtedly include her too.

He rushes to sit in the chair by her side. That uncomfortable chair that he's spent so much of his time in. Grabbing her hands in his, he leans on his elbows, resting his head against their clasped hands as he struggles for breath. The onslaught of tears is already upon him.

"I… should have known," he shakes his head, hating himself even more for failing to anticipate her role in the battle.

"I should have known you would be there." His eyes squint shut, the pain in his chest becoming unbearable. She was always there, wasn't she?

"Just for a dream you..." _gave up so much_. He couldn't finish the rest of his sentence. The throbbing in his throat took too much out of him. For Team Seven, for a possible future with him in it, she gave up everything. All for a person who only ever inflicted more pain and suffering on others. It was too awful.

"You should have sacrificed me…" Gritting his teeth, he slides out of the chair to kneel at her bedside. His raven hair still tangled amongst their mingled hands, as he shatters completely.

_Now I am broken_.

_Now it is me who will do anything to have you. _

.

.

.

_If you were to leave… To me… To me… I would be just as alone as you…_

Memories of the past always haunt his dreams. He vaguely wonders if he will be plagued by the past until the day he dies. Surely, if his life so far is any indicator, he won't have to worry about it for long. All his family members made for a brutally short life. Why should he be any different?

Days three and four are spent primarily in her bed. Is it still considered hers if he spends most of his time there?

He doesn't have the energy to be away from her.

As he lays on his side, his fingers play with her hair. He alternates between running them through the silky strands and curling her soft locks around his fingers. It's an oddly comforting pastime. It's cathartic.

She's with him. She won't leave him.

Leaning in, he lightly kisses her forehead before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in closer so he can relish the way the air around them mingles. Chest against chest, the scent of her floral shampoo intoxicates him.

Soon.

The girl who will always be there, waiting for him.

.

.

.

On the fifth day, he managed to drag himself from her side to perform an array of menial chores and tasks in and around the house. He thought of nothing as he dusted down every surface and neatly packed away family heirlooms. Nor did it occur to him why he felt compelled to empty the fridge of its contents or fold up and neatly pack away any spare blankets in the extra bedrooms. With the floors swept and the gardens in order, he finally retired from his tasks and set out for a walk at dusk.

The setting sun still peeked over the horizon, lighting the sky in a beautiful mixture of red and orange hues. With his hands in the pockets of his navy blue coloured pants, his feet fell into a slow, steady pace. A subtle breeze brushed against his skin, rustling his hair ever so slightly.

How many nights like this had he missed during his quest for revenge?

The busy streets slowly start to empty as people hurry home to their loved ones for dinner. Shop owners start to shoo out the last of their customers, closing up for the night. These people, with their ordinary lives could not be more different from him. He finds that despite all the time he's spent in this town, he still remains an outsider. At first he only returned because it was his older brother's wish. Now, he stays because of her.

Continuing down the streets to a more secluded section of town, he pauses to watch the setting sun fade beyond the mountains. The night both haunts and comforts him. How such a thing was possible, he did not know. As he gazes up to stare at the twinkling stars overhead, he can't help but take in a deep breath.

_'Just be patient a little bit longer, Sasuke. Soon we'll be whole again, I promise!'_

He's not sure why those words are ringing inside his head, but his heartbeat starts beating uncharacteristically quickly inside his chest. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge and his stomach is soon swirling with nerves. It's something akin to…

_Excitement_.

He buries the palm of his hand against one of his eye sockets, his eyes now squinted shut.

"Dammit," he whispers the curse faintly in the night's air. The emotion inside him threatens to take hold completely as his legs grow weak. It's sheer willpower that keeps him rooted in place. He will be patient. He will be patient. _He will. Be. Patient._

Just one more day.

Abruptly his uncovered eye snaps open, narrowed dangerously at the empty road ahead. Three tomoe spin ominously in his crimson eyes and his face contorts minutely in wrath. Of all times to be confronted by _that _man. Without moving to acknowledge the presence behind him, he clenches his fingers one last time into the raven locks around his forehead before dropping his hand to rest idly by his side.

With a slight scowl he speaks, "What is it, Kakashi." The anger is evident in his voice and by the way he practically spits out the man's name as if it's something filthy. If he were not a prideful man, he would simply jump off into the night and leave this confrontation for some future date, but the deadly sin was bred into him since birth.

When he receives no reply, he glances over his shoulder with a hard glare at the man he once called 'sensei'. He knows that Kakashi is onto him. Possibly, he already knew his secret. Though, his _dear_ sensei would never lend himself to imagine its full extent. He would mentally grapple with the truth, refusing to accept it until witnessing it directly, because for all his genius and perceptive capabilities, Kakashi possessed a key character flaw. The copy-nin placed an unshakeable faith in the bonds held with his teammates. He would try to convince himself that Sasuke could be saved, that the boy he trained as a stubborn child could not possibly fall casualty to the darkness while under his watch. Not a _second _time.

How many times had Kakahsi warned him of the dangers of revenge? Or paid special attention to him as a genin because he desperately wanted to steer him down the proper path. Regardless of all the warnings and guidance, he still failed to stop him. He gave him chance after chance to prove himself. All because Kakashi never wanted to believe that his beloved student could stray so far from the correct path.

Kakashi's unmasked eye briefly widened at the sight of red in his student's eyes before returning to its usual perceptive gaze. He straightened his lazy form and spoke smoothly, "Sasuke. There's something I want to say."

Again, his eyes narrow a fraction of a bit further. He doesn't answer for a minute, and the air between them grows thick with unspoken tension.

Finally, he turns away. His sight, once again, on the empty path before him.

"I'm busy." His tone is brisk and empty. He takes a step forward. And another.

"_Please_." The single utterance halts him in mid-step.

It's foolish to indulge the man, to give him false hope that his words might actually reach him. But when the silver-haired man remains poised with steadfast conviction, he cannot help but feel a twinge of pity for him.

Sasuke's eyes shut in momentary contemplation. The excitement in his gut still lingers but has subsided in intensity due to the scrutiny he's now under.

When his eyes open, they're a familiar obsidian colour.

"What is it?" Curt, and to the point.

He hears, more than sees, the copy-nin relax as a heavy sigh passes through his masked mouth. As if getting the raven haired man to listen is the largest obstacle and the rest is smooth sailing. _Fool_.

"Come with me. I want to show you something." Kakashi turns and starts walking in the opposite direction he came, settling in to a steady pace as he leads the younger male to a familiar site at the edge of town. The entire time, Sasuke stares blankly at his back. He knows what is coming and wants to make a snide remark on how both Kakashi and Naruto are fools to think they can try to understand him, try to mold him into accepting things like them. Instead, he holds his tongue, eagerly waiting for this to be over so he can reunite with the only person he actually wants to listen to, yet denies him the honour.

A tall monument stands in a small clearing, surrounded by budding trees and bushes. It's the monument the older male comes to visit every day. The place where he talks to the dead. Kakashi's fingers brush over the smooth marble stone, running over the names of fallen comrades that he once swore to protect. And failed.

Sasuke stands a foot behind him, waiting in silence for the man to collect himself and say whatever it is he so desperately wanted to say. This was silly. Why did he bring him here? He shifts uncomfortably, feeling more and more like an intruder with every second that passes.

"Sasuke." The copy-nin's strong voice snaps him from his inner thoughts.

"I've lost many dear companions. When they pass… it's always unexpected." He looks over his shoulder with a look of great intensity in his eye as he carefully regards his student. "There are many thoughts and feelings that get left… _unsaid_."

Remaining defiantly mute, Sasuke continued to hold his empty gaze with the older male. The only response to the words spoken is a tightening of his jaw. It was good he had so few friends because if all of them wanted to talk about _feelings _like Naruto and Kakashi, he thought his murderous urges would be brought to the fore.

Undeterred by his refusal to speak, Kakashi now turned to face Sasuke directly.

"I wish I had spoken to you about this sooner," his voice was filled with regret, making Sasuke cringe slightly in disgust. The man's weakness clawed at his insides, making him want to turn around just to avoid facing it.

"When they're gone, you have no choice but to bury those unspoken feelings deep inside yourself because, what else can you do with them? But for you…" Kakashi paused and raised his arm slowly, as if to rest it on the young man's shoulder in a display of comfort.

Immediately Sasuke takes a step back. A twig snaps beneath his foot; the small sound seems to echo in his ears. He stares with wide-eyes, surprised by his reaction but still not wanting to be comforted by the other. What was Kakashi thinking? Trying to comfort _him_? Trying to understand _him_? It made him angry. All these meddlesome people in his life. Couldn't they just leave him alone? He was the last person on earth who should be comforted.

Kakashi's hand dropped, but still he continued.

"For you, it's different. Sakura is still here and yet, she's not at the same time."

_Don't try to understand me_.

"Sasuke." Said male took another slow, cautious step back. He just wanted to get away. Be far away from everyone. _Except her_. Run away from everything. Forget everything. Spit in the face of everything he once knew. Except for her. He just wanted to be left alone with her, undisturbed by anyone or anything else.

"I understand it must be difficult for you." Kakashi's soft voice felt like acid to his ears.

Stop.

Stop.

STOP.

"Time may have seemed to stop for her but for you, it continues to move forward. There's much that has remained unsaid between you two. Even if you wanted to, you can't just ignore those unsettled feelings because she's still her, even though she's not."

Everything that poured from the man's lips made his skin crawl, washing over him like liquid fire and filling his mind with images of violent acts. He just wanted to make him stop talking.

"It must be very confusing, Sasuke."

It was not confusing. He knew very well what he wanted. What he needed. What was confusing was why everyone thought they could convince him otherwise.

Kakashi's hand planted itself firmly on his shoulder, causing his eyes to break open. He didn't even realize when he had closed them to begin with.

"Please Sasuke, bear with it for a little longer." The silver haired ninja's eye closed as a reassuring smile graced his lips. The expression left Sasuke aghast, though the only indication of such was a small incline of his brows.

"If it's too hard for you, we'll go to Tsunade-sama together… You don't have to go through this alone." Again, the hand on his shoulder gave a small squeeze.

Sasuke swallowed, wetting his dry throat. His eyes darkened a little as his chin dropped lower. Sudden suspicion reached his tone, "You would… do that," his eyes narrowed, "for me? Why?"

Perhaps, this was a trick. A trick to take her away from him. The words and gestures he used were compassionate and caring, leaving no doubt about his sincerity yet still the notion of being parted from her pulled at that possessive beast inside him. His gaze cast down to the ground, a small frown tugged at the edges of his lips.

Kakashi's hand withdrew, only to affectionately rustle his raven hair, "You're one of my precious student's."

_Precious_. The word stung.

He could not look up now. Not because of the anger or suspicion but because he had never pitied another man more than the one before him right now. For all the genius, wisdom and power the infamous copy-nin possessed, he never succeeded in saving his precious persons. It was tragic. For all his efforts and words, he still had nothing to show for it. He still lost everyone dear to him.

"Think about it." With one last pat on the head, Kakashi vanished into the night's air.

What a sad man, that Hatake Kakashi.

.

.

Everyone asked him for patience. They didn't realize he'd already waited long enough. He already thought about it. He already knew.

The time for words was over.

Kakashi could not save him. Naruto could not save him.

As his feet padded softly on the wooden floors of the hallway that led to her room, he could not tame the wild thumping of his heart. In several long strides, he came to rest at her bedside. He glowered down at her prone form, feeling the familiar pang of excitement pool in his stomach. There was only one person who could save him.

His fingers shook as he peeled back the sheets and slipped in beside her, sighing deeply against her cheek with his eyes shut. Only one person could save him but she did not want to. He just knew, could feel it in the marrow of his bones, she would not wake up for him tomorrow.

People asked too much of him and he was tired of resisting.

He was a monster.

And, he did not care.

.

.

.

* * *

**A/N's: **Well... sorry if this was a confusing, not-so-interesting chapter. It was really hard to think of what Kakashi/Naruto would say because even though they are suspicious (esp. Kakashi) of Sasuke's behaviour, they still do not know the full truth. They must feel that Sasuke is edging toward something dangerous but are unsure so can only try to support him and make vague inferences. Also, I'm sure many people do not really understand Sasuke's reactions/emotional swings, but basically I feel at this point he does not want to listen to what anyone has to say because he's already accepted the decision he's made in regards to Sakura. To hear the kind/supportive words of his friends just makes him feel bad because he knows they will not sway him. Thus, the reason why he seems angry and resistant when they say something that makes him second guess his decision.

Ahh, I feel I've failed since I am trying to explain it all down here!

I've already started working on the next chapter. I wish I could've uploaded more but I also felt the mood/atmosphere changes in the next scene so it's better suited for a break here. Also, you guys would've had to wait even longer for an update ;p

Guahhh, I failed, gomenasai! The next chapter will have more action!


	5. Dreams

**Twisted Part V**

The pale light of the rising sun peeked in through the sheer curtains, bathing the room in a hazy morning glow. A figure on the bed slowly started to rouse, nudging closer to the other body of warmth on the mattress. Running fingers delicately through pink locks, their foreheads touch and black lashes gradually fluttered open to reveal a set of onyx eyes.

He takes in a deep breath as the seemingly boundless depths of his dark eyes drink in the sight before him. Her lithe body is turned on its side to face him directly, a pose almost _too _natural for someone in her condition to be in.

His face nudges into the pillow they're currently sharing and he curls into the warm, feathery duvet cover that is draped over them. Slowly, sleep starts to depart his eyes and his hand rises to touch the side of her face.

"Ne, Sakura," her name rolls off his lips as he strokes her cheek lazily, his voice still raspy from sleep. He gazes at her soft, cherry-coloured lips and the rest of the sentence is shortly lost while he loses himself in the beauty of her soft features.

_'I think, in that moment, she must've been happy.'_

"Were you happy… even though it meant leaving me?" His voice is barely a whisper even though to his ears, it fills the room.

The fingers on her cheek drop to her chin so his thumb can brush over those lips of hers that continue to captivate him so much. It's still a wonder to him how the simple feature of her mouth can distract him so thoroughly. But then, everything about her seems to reel him in like a fish caught on the end of a line.

_The things you do to me… _

"Do you regret it?" His eyes darken as his thumb nudges its way between the folds of her lips and sweeps across her pearly white teeth.

Of course she will not answer.

A sudden flash of anger washes over him, but it recedes into nothing as soon as it came. He doesn't have it in him to feel anger anymore. Such a tiresome emotion. If she does not want to speak then she must have a reason for it.

Smiling softly, he shakes his head.

"It doesn't matter." Their noses touch and he sighs contently, enjoying the way his lashes brush against her and how her faint breath heats the surface of his skin. The heat on his face causes small goose bumps to form on his forearms. Gently, his lips connect with hers in a chaste, but long kiss.

Sasuke pulls away, but only for a moment before planting another fleeting kiss on her lips, eyeing her carefully through half-lidded eyes as his hand now dragged around to the base of her skull. His tongue darts out to moisten his lips, but due to their proximity it also leaves a thin sheen of fresh saliva on hers as well. The sight immediately sends a bundle of nerves rushing to his stomach, the intensity of which almost winds him as much as a kick to the abdomen from Naruto would.

Immediately, his lips are upon her, eating her up while gasping at the sensation now erupting in his gut. This kiss is not like the previous one, it's raw and filled with need. Hungrily, the hand cupping the back of her head presses her firmly against him, their lips melding as he slips his tongue into her awaiting mouth, entwining their flesh together and shaking because of it. His eyes drift shut while he focuses all his attention into the kiss.

The sound of his wet lips slopping over hers only drives him that much further, delving deeper into her warm, moist cavern and finding the chorus of noises that are the result of lips against lips and tongue against tongue, like music to his ears. Sucking and sliding, he continues the kiss until his chest starts to constrict and burn from lack of oxygen. Even so, it is only with great effort that he pulls away, panting heavily as his lungs protest the abuse suffered. It's only of secondary concern, however, he would gladly drown in her kisses and the sweet taste of her mouth.

A faint shade of red stains his cheeks but is gone unnoticed. Instead, he regards the way his harsh breathing makes loose strands of her hair quiver, as if caught in a gentle breeze, and the way her lips are hanging open, partly ajar. His fingers slide down, leaving her hair to graze down the smooth slope of her neck until they rest over her pulse. It beats quickly under his fingers, evidence that even her own body can be stirred to some reaction; even if it is just because her body demands air just as much as anyone else's.

He props up on his elbow and leans forward, replacing his fingers over her pulse with a light kiss. It turns into something more when his tongue darts out to tentatively slide over the sensitive spot. His lips connect once more over her pulse, sucking and rolling his tongue in a way that will undoubtedly leave a mark. At the moment, he cares not.

Without drawing back, he nudges her body on its back, only withdrawing from her neck so he can reclaim her lips. Sliding on top her, he tilts her head back so that he has greater leverage to devour her mouth. When he kisses her, nothing else matters. The heat enveloping his entire body continues to increase, higher and higher until his cheeks are inflamed with a deep shade of red. He feels like he's going to combust.

He could take her right now.

A low moan fills her and he breaks away to trail sensually down her chin and along her neck. He comes to rest at the soft juncture between her neck and collarbones, letting his well-practiced tongue drift languidly over whatever skin he can reach with her yukata still loosely tucked in place. With his mouth thoroughly occupied, one of his hands casually draws enticing circles on her side.

His half-hard member tells him that it would indeed be very easy to complete the deed and take her wholly. A mewl of pleasure filters from his lips as his lower portion brushes up against her thigh.

Today is the day he promised to have her.

Outside the window, a songbird fills the air with its pleasant tune. Soon, the delightful bird is joined by its friend and the two engage in a harmonious duel. The playful song filters into the room, making Sasuke hesitate in his actions.

He sighed, sitting up to rest comfortably on his knees beside her prone body. The soft comforter drapes off his shoulders and falls to his hips. His eyes close in momentary contemplation.

It's not that he is uncertain about claiming her, of that he is sure. Just that these acts they engage in belong cloaked under the cover of nightfall. The time of day where he reigns and is uninhibited by what daylight reveals. Not only that, but he did say she had six days, did he not? Technically, she still had some hours left, not that he expected it to make any difference in the outcome. He was simply a man of his word.

When his eyes open, he stares longingly at her lips. She teased him so.

Leaning down he promises in her ear, "I'll be back for you soon."

There is no way he can control himself if he stays at her side right now. He turns his head and lightly kisses her cheek, before tugging the sheets back up over her form.

Anticipation still pools in his stomach as he departs her bedside. Inside his chest, his heart beats rapidly. He can only wonder how he managed to last so long without her.

.

.

.

The sun remained positioned high in the sky. Somehow, Sasuke managed to pass a couple hours walking through familiar Konoha streets. He even went to the busy marketplace for nutritional sustenance; tuna with a side of tomato rice. It was quite a feat for him to be out in public for so long, and the heads that turned as he walked merely proved what a rarity his presence in the town's centre was. Of course, his incredibly handsome features could lay in part for at least half of the attention he received. He paid no mind to all the glances however, retreating to his usual solemn thoughts.

As he walked, a small girl came barreling towards him. With all the grace and ease that came with being a high-level shinobi, he easily sideswiped her and avoided an undoubted collision. Unfortunately, the surprise at the near miss, added to her high velocity, only led to the girl losing her footing. She crashed to the ground near his feet.

Tears stung the corners of the small girl's eyes and, sniffing loudly, she looked up at the raven haired man with quite the pouty face. Perhaps she might've been alright except, unsure of what to do in such a situation, Sasuke only looked down at her with his usual stony expression. For any normal, trained ninja, such an expression was enough to cause unease. For a small girl, it was downright scary. The girl broke out into a loud wail, snot dripping down her nose and thick tears wetting her lap.

Crying girls were _not _his forte, despite all the experience he had with _one_ in particular when he was a genin.

Not knowing what to do, he shifted slightly. People were starting to stare, but he remained unmoving. When his finger twitched, he hesitantly lifted his hand from his side a couple inches before stilling it and doing nothing more. Should he… comfort her…

Internally, he struggled with what the next course of action should be.

_How does one like him even comfort a child?_

It was beyond awkward.

"Geeze teme, your face is scaring her!" A blur of orange and yellow rushed past him, allowing Sasuke's shoulders to relax as his dilemma quickly solved itself with the help of external sources.

Naruto crouched down in front of the girl and patted her head gently, "Don't worry, he just looks bad but he's really one of the good guys!"

Smiling warmly, Naruto continued to comfort the girl until she was well enough to shakily make it to her feet and dust herself off. She hugged the blonde tightly before cautiously looking up, apologizing to Sasuke and running off once more.

"Heh," Naruto raised a brow, eyeing his friend smugly, "I guess it's no competition over who's better with kids." As he stood, he crossed his arms over his chest, repositioning a thin folder in his hand.

"Hn." Sasuke glanced to the side, feeling a little bit slighted that he'd been caught in such an embarrassing situation. After a moment, his eyes returned to rest on the folder in the other's hand, wordlessly asking what it was.

"Mission report. Tsunade-baa-chan's gonna have my head cause I was supposed to turn it in yesterday," the blonde grumbled out. There was really no doubt he inherited certain, undesirable traits from their sensei; tardiness being high on the list.

The two started into a steady pace, Sasuke unconsciously walking with Naruto in the direction of the Hokage Tower. He vaguely paid attention to his friend sharing useless details on his mission and then, his rather involved complaints on how a ninja such as himself deserved assignments more worthy of his attention. At some point in the conversation, he tuned out the dobe's voice completely, his thoughts drifting back to where he left off earlier that morning. He could still imagine her taste in his mouth and the feel of their wet appendages sliding against one another. Or, the way her soft round mounds fit perfectly in his hands, and how their bodies flush together created just the right amount of friction to excite his lower half.

God. He wanted her.

He wanted her so badly that he was actually thinking about all the things he'd do to her even with Naruto still walking right next to him. His heart started to flutter in his chest and excited anticipation began tickling his stomach. Like so many times before, thoughts of her made his body react on its own accord.

He should go to her. Now. Who cares that it was broad daylight. All that mattered was that they were together.

He waited long enough, didn't he?

_Yes. _Chopping off a few hours from the six day window really wouldn't make a difference. What about all those months he adamantly resisted slipping into her? That should count for something.

Just as his mouth was about to open to inform Naruto that he had other business to attend, his friend beat him to it.

"Teme, are you even listening to me!?" He shrieked, pointing an angry finger in Sasuke's chest.

Sasuke's continued silence was answer enough. No, he was not listening him. Instead he was listening to the thumping of his heart in his ears, demanding that he rush back to her.

"You're completely ignoring me, you ass!" Sasuke rolled his eyes at his friend's antics. As if his boring mission should be of any interest at all to him. Not with other, more pressing matters demanding his attention.

"You should be more appreciative of me after all the things I do for you," Naruto nodded in self-affirmation, giving the other male a rather self-righteous expression.

At that, Sasuke could not help but arch one of his perfectly shaped brows, obviously finding the sentiment rather boastful and unsubstantiated by any further claim. His reaction seemed to spur on the blonde who suddenly started to giggle mischievously; it was the same way he acted whenever he knew something the Uchiha genius didn't.

"Naruto. Either tell me or shut it. I have places to be," he spoke stoically, loathing how the blonde always thought he could get him to beg for information.

"Ok, ok." Naruto waved him off, a grin still adorning his facial features. "Try to act surprised when she tells you, but I finally convinced Tsunade-baa-chan to send us on a mission!"

"A mission?" His eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, indicating his mild confusion. It had been many years since he went on an actual mission. In fact, the last official mission had been prior to him leaving Konoha to train under Orochimaru's tutelage. The war, and then his probation, ended any prospects of partaking in actual missions outside the walls of Konoha.

Naruto continued to beam excitedly, "Yeah! Just a week long one or some—"

_A week!? _Images of her body laying on its lonesome in the middle of the night flashed in his mind.

"No," the word escaped his lips rather breathlessly, the mounting horror he felt inside only just hinting its way into his voice. When Naruto turned around to face him, he suddenly became aware that he had stopped walking and that his body was frozen in place.

"What do you mean 'no'? You should be happ—"

"I can't!" His voice was a pitch higher than usual. He could not leave her. The revulsion he felt at the mere thought was driving him into a panic. Quickly, he managed to add some reasoning for his adamant refusal, though his rational mind seemed to fade further out of his grasp.

"It's against the rules of my probation."

"Well… duh! That's why it took so long to get Tsunade to agree, but I told her how it was unfair to let your skills go to waste," Naruto grinned widely, self-congratulating himself for his apparent genius. He was too proud to notice the colour draining from Sasuke's face, too happy to spot the appalled look, the fractionally widened eyes, the parted lips, the way he took a half step back.

Sasuke's stomach seemed to fall unnaturally low in his gut, signalling his growing awareness to the unpleasant nauseous feeling building in his throat. To be away from her for so long… Oh! What a horrible feeling it left in his chest. Away from her warm body, her silky pink hair and those lovely red lips that screamed out for him to touch. The thought made his palms grow sweaty.

"You shouldn't have done that…" Despite all the missed cues, the blonde was not dense enough to miss the faint words spoken under the other's breath, hardly loud enough for his well-attuned ears to pick up. Naruto's brows knit together for a few seconds before widening in sudden realization.

"Sasuke, you don't have to worry. Ino and Hinata will gladly stay with Sakura-chan while we're away… they'd probably like spending more time with her," he tried to reassure.

No. He could not. Reassurance meant nothing to him. There was no way he could leave her for however short a time, and the growing weakness in his knees only further solidified that point.

_What if she wakes up and he's not there? _

"They won't know what to do." Although he meant to say it as a statement, it almost sounded more like a question since his mind was still trying to come up with a valid reason for why he should most certainly not leave her in anyone else's care.

"Sasuke. They're _trained _in medical ninjutsu." Naruto deadpanned, making the most obvious statement ever.

_Damn it! _He just needed to get his body back under control so his mind could function properly.

"I'm supposed to be the one… it's my job." He continued to make his case, and added with greater firmness, "It's _my_ punishment." _Good_. At least his voice returned to its usual monotone level.

"It will be good for you to have a break, get back to something normal!" Naruto gave him a hard but compassionate stare.

"No!" Again, he replied with some urgency, hating how desperate his voice sounded after just having reined it in. Why did Naruto have to make his arguments sound so weak. He just needed something… anything to say that would make the blonde give up.

He said the only thing he could think of.

"What if… she wakes up and I'm not there?" He sounded so weak and unlike himself.

Naruto's face softened and he immediately took a step forward, shaking his head in the process.

"Stop worrying, we all know you love her."

_Love? _That one word alone snapped him out of his depressed state, reigniting his body with something unfamiliar.

"Love!?" He spat the word out in a cross between disgust and shock, his face contorting slightly in derision.

Him. Loving _her_? Impossible.

_Wasn't it? _

"Yes! You know, like how we all love her… Kakashi-sensei, me, Yamato, heck, even Sai. She's still one of our precious teammates, after all." Naruto smiled, knowing it was always like this with Sasuke. He was so emotionally stunted he always needed such things explained in precise detail before he understood them.

"People won't think you're abandoning her or that you don't care for her just because you're going on a mission, Sasuke." Those soft words hung in the air between them. Sasuke found there was nothing he could say in reply, his mouth suddenly dry and eyes frozen in place at a fixed spot on the ground. His thoughts were deep in contemplation.

Was it possible for him to love someone?

"Well, look… I have to go drop this report off for Tsunade. Just give a mission some more thought, alright?" Naruto did not wait for a response, he could see his friend was thinking things over. He turned, and jumped off in an orange flash.

Sasuke stayed rooted in place.

Love.

All this time he didn't think it was possible for himself to love another human being. Not since his entire clan was massacred did he even think of the infernal emotion. Love was pain, suffering, loneliness. Love filled him with emptiness and then rage and malice. Every time he thought of love, he remembered his parent's cold corpses, sprawled out in a pool of blood. Or he thought of Itachi, embracing Konoha's hatred in exchange for protecting his beloved village and little brother. Nothing good ever came from love. He stamped out that emotion long ago.

Love held no place in his life.

But if he deleted love from his repertoire of emotions, why did his heart flutter when he entered her room? Why did he feel warm and at peace when he pulled her into his arms? Why did kissing her make his head swim? Even more so, why did the thought of her at his side make him smile? She was pure and light, and always there for him, even when he betrayed the village she loved.

To love someone is a risk, because to love someone completely is to open yourself up to pain and the fear of losing them. He knew all this. Love is a curse for the weak.

Abruptly, his feet started carrying him forward. He hopped up on a rooftop and started flying in the direction of home, racing to be at her side as if his body were possessed. The yearning to touch her, to be at her side was greater than ever before.

Is this how she felt when she begged him to stay? Or when she took his final attack?

_All for a dream_ he thought. But it was much more than that, wasn't it?

Slowing once he reached the steps leading to the front door of his house, he paused. If he didn't love her, why could he imagine so clearly what it would be like opening the door and hearing her welcome him home? If he didn't love her, why then, as he made his way down the hall to her room, could he picture himself carrying her to their room after a long day's work? Reaching the doorway to her room, he looked over at her prone form on the bed. Why is it that he could see himself watching her like this as she drifted to sleep? All of these _dreams_ made his body tingle and his heart skip a beat.

The mattress dipped when he sat on the edge, leaning on one arm and reaching over with the other to stroke her pink hair. She really was beautiful. He leaned in closer, bringing his legs up from the side of the bed and crawling over her form. If he was incapable of loving, why could he only imagine a future with her standing next to him?

Their noses touched and his breath hitched before he pressed his lips to hers. His eyelashes fluttered shut and warmth filled his chest. As one hand caressed her cheek, he found himself softly smiling into her lips. The other hand ghosted down her neck, coming to a rest on her shoulder.

This was where he belonged.

She loved him. She made him whole. And surely, he also…

Just as the realization hit him, that the moment for taking her was perfect, and just as his fingers started to pull down on her chin, his mind vaguely informed him of a grip on his shoulder. It was hard to heed much attention to since he was already lost, wanting to be with her so badly. He was aware of nothing except her body against his.

In a split second, the grip yanked him back roughly, wrenching him from her, and sending him flying across the room. His back slammed hard against the wooden wall and a sickening crack could be heard from the spot where his head made impact. The wall split and large dent formed where his body sunk into the plaster. He could feel something warm and sticky matting in his hair and trickling down his neck. If he were not still conscious, he would've guessed that his skull cracked in two but the time to dwell on this was short because almost as soon as the air left his lungs and his body crumpled forward, a vice-grip encircled his neck and shoved him back against the wall with unrelenting force. He gasped for air, barely having the strength to even register the slightest bit of resistance against the chokehold.

Internally cursing at himself, he gritted his teeth. He really must've been out of it if he hadn't even _sensed _another person's presence until they already delivered an attack. With his vision still blurry and black dancing around the edges, he lifted his head. He had to squint to steady his double vision and focus on the face of his captor. Onyx met dark grey, narrowed in anger.

Hatake Kakashi.

Sasuke frowned, still panting for breath as his sensei struggled to hold back the instinct to deliver another violent blow. The sudden urge to throw up wracked through him and his body slumped into the rigid form in front of him, now the only thing keeping him upright.

Weakly, Sasuke brought his fingertips up to his forehead, trying to quiet the ringing in his head. It's been a while since he felt physical pain like this.

"How low have you fallen, Sasuke!?" was hissed from between Kakashi's teeth. His large hand briefly tightened its strangled hold around his student's neck before relenting and loosening enough so that he could still breathe.

Sucking in a shaky breath, both of Sasuke's hands wrapped around Kakashi's wrist and forearm and gave a feeble tug in an attempt to dislodge the man's hold.

"Let. Go." He rasped, eyes narrowing dangerously. He was so close to getting what he wanted, just this last obstacle had to be dealt with.

"Sasuke!" Another shove against the wall. It was a silent threat to get the younger male to cease his pathetic attempts to free himself. "What's wrong with _you_?" Kakashi asked in disgust, though the question was more for himself. How could his dear student be so distorted from reality.

Sasuke paid no mind to the revulsion he saw in the other's eyes. He just needed to get back to her, needed to have her body crushed against his, his skin soaking in all the warmth she had to offer. He needed to finish that kiss, which was so rudely interrupted.

_No one would keep him from her. _

Fingers dug into the material of Kakashi's navy blue shirt, and Sasuke struggled with a little more force to tear away the hand that was pinning him to the wall.

"Let me go to her," he commanded darkly, his patience growing thin.

"Go to her?" Kakashi's only revealed eye widened visibly, not believing the words his student spoke even in this position. After catching him on top of her, so close to violating her precious innocence, he still had the audacity to even think about resuming it. Kakashi watched, feeling at a distance, as Sasuke started to struggle more urgently against his unmoving grasp, gritting his teeth and yanking the arm that tied him in place.

"Let me go, _let me go_!" Sasuke repeated angrily, using one leg as leverage to push against the wall, though remaining unsuccessful at breaking free.

He would not have her taken from him.

His body started to thrash violently, not caring if he inflicted more damage to himself, and his fingers clawed at Kakashi's arm as if his life were in danger. In a way, it was. With his teeth gritting together, he tried desperately to separate himself from the infernal wall that he was quickly growing to hate just as much as the man in front of him. How dare they keep him from her!

_Is this really what you've become, Sasuke? _

"Stop!" Kakashi demanded, the desperate behavior of his troubled student starting to eat at him, filling him with remorse and repugnance at the same time. Repugnance because this was not the Sasuke he was used to. Not this broken, pitiful, shell of a man before him. His heart tightened in his chest, it hurt to see him like this. Was this his fault for not guiding him more closely?

"Can't you see how wrong this is?" He almost coughed when one of Sasuke's hands slammed into his gut, but he ignored the pain, the punches and the quivering mess of curses all directed at him. All because he was trying to save _both _of his students.

"You're sick, Sasuke." The words were not harsh; they simple were the truth.

Sick?

Sasuke's body tensed and his movements stilled. For a moment the Copy-nin thought maybe he'd broken some sense into his disturbed mind but quickly Sasuke lashed out, dashing the brief glimmer of hope.

"I love her! How can I be sick?" His body shook, a hurt expression crossed his features as he looked accusingly at Kakashi. All he wanted to do was be with her. To hold her and to cherish her. Why couldn't people just understand that? When he received no reply his head slumped forward, his eyes shut and his arms fell to his sides in apparent defeat.

"How can that be wrong?" The weak voice met Kakashi's ears and for once, the man had no response.

What can you say to that? The student he nurtured and taught since the age of twelve was lost, so far removed from reality that he couldn't even see that this was wrong. And even Kakashi did not understand it. For Sasuke to admit that he could love… that should be a good thing, proof that he was capable of knowing something other than anger and revenge, yet how did his love take such a twisted form?

"Sasuke…" The grey-haired nin started but still did not know what to say. He still wasn't sure if he should be angry with him or consoling him.

"We should go to Tsunade-sama." She would know what to do. And it would give him some time to collect his thoughts, try to make _some _sense of this.

Kakashi did not realize the mistake he had made.

One of Sasuke's hands latched onto Kakashi's arm in a threatening hold. His heavy breathing stilled and slowly, ever so slowly, his head tilted upward. Messy raven locks framed his face and his lids slid open to reveal a pair of sinister crimson eyes. The mangekyou sharingan swirling dangerously with intent.

He knew Kakashi would try to do this. If he went with him to Tsunade they would take _her _away from him and he could not have that. No. He would take out anyone who tried to separate them because it was now clearer than ever that his future was with her.

"Sasuke, don't!" Kakashi's wide eye pleaded with him not to do this. Not out of a fear for his own safety, but because the action would create a new barrier for their team to overcome. Perhaps a barrier they could never overcome.

Through narrowed eyes, and without reservations Sasuke invaded his sensei's consciousness, torturing his body and mind with vivid brutality. In an instant, the hold around his neck went slack and the infamous Copy-nin dropped to his knees in a crumpled mess on the floor.

_It's nothing personal. _

Sasuke heaved in a deep breath, briefly stumbling from one foot to the other as he tried to capture his balance. When he succeeded in steadying himself, he leant down and rested his sensei's body against the wall that had, moment's ago, held him in its clutches.

_Just, if you get in my way I'll be sure to take you out. _

In a few wobbly steps he was upon her, the blow to his head making him feel woozy but he blocked it out and focused on the task at hand. He had to act quickly; Kakashi would soon be fighting against unconsciousness to stop him once more.

He sat on her lap and pulled her body up to a sitting position. She fell listlessly against his chest and he couldn't help but take a moment to rest his chin atop her head, imagining this to be one of those nights in the future where he'd cradle her to sleep in his arms.

It all made sense now, why he made so many preparations around the house.

Sighing, he buried his face in the thick of her soft hair, inhaling that enthralling scent that was unique to her. With one hand clutching her shoulders, the other raked in through her hair and cupped the back of her head.

There was nowhere to run. He could not take her and flee Konoha because that would spit in the face of everything she did to bring him back here. How could he ever look at her knowing he ignored all of her efforts _and _took her from the place she loved and grew up. Everything she knew was in Konoha.

With the hand in her hair, he tilted her head back and latched his lips to hers. Briefly his tongue traced along the path of her lips before plunging inside and pursuing a relentless exploration of her mouth. At last, he got to finish the kiss he'd started earlier.

As the kiss continued, he gently lowered her back onto the mattress. The tension in his chest quickly evaporating as his hands came to rest on either side of her head.

It was such a simple solution. How could he not have thought of it earlier?

His lips departed hers but he let their foreheads connect. Inside his chest, his heart beat erratically making his breath fan over her face in quick, small puffs.

They would not leave Konoha, and they would not be separated.

Behind him, he heard Kakashi grunt, a sure sign that the gray-haired man was desperately fighting his body's pleas to lie motionless.

Sasuke's fingers rested on Sakura's shut eyelids. There was no time to delay. With the most delicate care possible, he pried her eyes open so his technique could reach her. He watched the mangekyou sharingan spinning counter-clockwise in the reflection of her viridian eyes.

He decided to protect their dream after all.

After a moment, his eyes started to droop, vision blackening as he slipped his consciousness into hers. The control he held over his body started to slip, evidence that his technique was working. Unlike with Kakashi, where he dragged both his victim's conscious and unconscious mind into a world of his own creation, he reversed the process, entwining his mind and fate in her world. His consciousness would be sealed in her own, only to awaken when she herself awoke. This way she would be safe and they would be together.

In this way, he would wait for her.

His body went limp, no longer possessing the strength to move. With the last of his will, he smiled. A soft, faint smile just for her.

Blackness took hold.

.

.

.

Their bodies lay, enmeshed and unmoving on the bed.

Not even the desperate pleas or shakes from their sensei could rouse them.

_Are you at peace now, Sasuke? _

.

.

.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Wooh, can you believe I managed to preserve Sakura's virginity!? LOL. Ehem, this chapter ended up a little longer than I predicted but hopefully everything makes sense? There will be another chapter to tie up all loose ends (sorry, I don't want to stretch this fic out too long because I honestly feel it'd get repetitive and it's mainly supposed to be about Sasuke's character development). I hope I was able to describe Sasuke's emotions/internal struggles in a believable and captivating way... whenever I re-read/edit my own work I always feel it falls short and doesn't quite live up to the way I feel inside when I imagine the scene in my head u_u I'll probably keep editing this chapter over the next few days (adding only small details and whatnot).

Now that this chapter is done, I can finally say to all those people who wanted or thought it likely that Sakura would end up pregnant, lol, you guys truly made me laugh because I somehow find that would be the most unromantic thing to wake up to :'D

Oh yeah and... unconscious Sasuke... Now he should worry about ME humping him (!) *dies*


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